TTaT: Mercury
by Timesprite
Summary: Information in the form of a mysterious letter offers Domino clues to a past she no longer recalls--but is everything really as it appears? (STRONG PG-13)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Recognizable characters belong to Marvel, the rest are mine. I'm not making any money off this, anyhow. Thanks go out to Alison, Lyss, Thren, and the rest of the #dominofic crew for help, encouragement and general sympathy. Additional thanks to Alison for betaing this monster. You're far too nice for your own good, dear. 

Mercury  
1/9 

_"They won't *hurt* her, Jenica. They're just screening. You know the agency is in need of eligible candidates to train--"_

"As killers," his wife hissed back. "So they screen our girl. What if they decide she's a probable candidate? They take her away and brainwash her into working for them? Like they did to you? Like they try to do to all of us?"

"You're being irrational." He put a hand on her shoulder. "They don't brainwash anyone."

"They make you believe you're indebted to them," she snapped. "They *own* you, Andrei. Don't let them own Fayina." She cast her eyes downward. "What about the baby?" Her hand moved to her swollen abdomen. "They want to test it too?"

"They will eventually," he murmured. "They've taken care of us, Jenica. We can't say no."

He shook off the memory with a frown. "But you never could listen to reason, could you," he whispered to himself as he stared down at the pages before him. "You always had to run, and look where it got us." He reached out and picked up a small picture frame, enshrining a faded photograph of three smiling faces. His hand shook as he set the frame back on the table and turned his attention again to his letter. "Gone, both of you. And God only knows if the third will forgive." 

----

"I don't like the looks of this." Cable ran a hand back through his hair and set the reports back down on the table. "You think the FoH is funding the research?"

"Not necessarily. Charles has been aware of the individuals carrying out the research for some time... though they might have influenced the direction the corporation decided to take with it." Jean leaned back in her chair. "We *do* know that the Friends of Humanity have been taking a more... active position on the issue since the bombings began."

Domino reached over and leafed through the files. "Any new leads on those, other than they're all GenCorp facilities?"

"Nothing. No one credible is claiming responsibility, and GenCorp itself hasn't received any other threats. Just the bombings."

"Mostly shipping facilities," Domino frowned, looking over the list of locations. "No real correlation in the locations. The company doesn't have any idea who might be behind them? A rival group who doesn't want them to get exclusive rights to the procedures they're trying to market?"

"Warren and Betsy went out to speak to them last week," Scott spoke up. "The company head didn't seem to think so. The general working assumption is that it's a pro-mutant organization that's carrying out the attacks."

"If that's the case, why go after only the shipping facilities? Attacking the research centers would put GenCorp back months, even years. This only delays them a few weeks at best."

Domino shook her head. "Lower security? Besides, since when have terrorists necessarily made *sense,* Nate?" She shifted her gaze across the table. "So how can we help?"

"As you can see from the map," Cyclops said, "GenCorp has several installations on the West Coast. Only one has been targeted so far. If X-Force can stake out one or two of the other facilities, we might be able to catch the perpetrators in the act. And if something did come up, you and Nathan could act as our representatives with them." He paused. "As part of a special government task force, of course."

She arched an eyebrow at the lead X-Man. "You're suggesting we lie to them?" She laughed. "And Xavier agreed to this?"

"We need to know who is responsible for these attacks, before they get worse. The FoH has already stirred up another rabid anti-mutant campaign. God only knows what will happen if actual people begin to get caught up in this mess. Supplies are one thing. Lives are quite another." 

----

From her vantage point in the woods at the back of Xavier's estate, Domino spotted a lone figure crossing the moon lit lawn, heading in her general direction. She lost sight of him as he vanished in the trees, only to reappear silently below her a few minutes later.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yep." Dom dropped down from the tree branch she'd been perched on. "But not out here."

"Mind tellin' me what this is about first?" Wolverine leaned back against a tree trunk.

Domino sighed, raking a hand back through her hair. "I--look, I just need to talk to someone about this, and right now, Nathan's out of the question. I know you'll keep your mouth shut," she finished with a wry smile.

Logan folded his arms across his chest and studied her for a long moment. "You look like hell, darlin.' You okay?"

"Mostly," she replied. "Look, I'm freezing my ass off here," she said rubbing a hand over her bare arm. "Could we please continue this inside, preferably someplace that serves alcohol?"

He chuckled. "Harry's it is."

----

"Why'd you and the tin man fly all the way out here, anyway? Cyke coulda given you all that info without you being here in person." 

"Nate wanted to see Rachel." She shook her head. "Devoted big brother, I guess. I think he wanted to discuss some telepath stuff with Jean, too." She took a long swallow of her beer. "I'm just along for the ride," she sighed, leaning back in the booth.

"First time you've been out of his sight since you got here," Logan pointed out casually. "There a reason he's been following you around like a puppy? Not 'xactly like him. Not like you to put up with it, either."

She leaned her head on her hand as she nursed her drink. "It's--complicated. He's got his reasons, and I can live with it."

"Hrmp." He signaled to the waitress for another round. "Anything to do with that trip you took to Muir a few months ago?"

She sat up, giving him a hard look. "No one was supposed to know about that."

"No one else does." He shook his head ruefully. "Darlin,' I knew things weren't right when you were here last Christmas. Didn't say anything 'cause I know it's none of my business, but I ain't above checkin' up on you."

"Like I said, it's complicated." She gave him a watery smile. "I'm better now, really."

"I believe you. So, what exactly was it you needed to talk to me about?"

She reached down into the pocket of the coat she'd retrieved before they'd left, pulling out a thick envelope. "This came in the mail a few weeks ago. Haven't shown it to anyone else yet." She paused. "Supposedly, it's from my father." She handed the letter to him and took a swallow of her beer.

"Well, I can see why you wanted the alcohol." Logan unfolded the letter and scanned the contents. "You want me to check into this?" He asked when he'd finished, refolding the sheets and placing them back in the envelope. 

She took the letter and tucked it into her coat pocket. "Not yet. I'm not sure what I want to do about it," she sighed. "I'm going to have to talk to Nate eventually."

He nodded. "Alright. You let me know if there's anything I can do to help out."

She smiled wistfully. "Thanks Logan. I appreciate it."

----

"Where did you vanish to?" Nathan murmured as Domino slipped quietly into the room they were sharing. "It's pretty late."

"Went out with Logan for a while." She undressed and climbed in next to him. "Jealous?" She teased.

"Of Logan?" He snorted. "Should I expect dire death threats from him in the morning?"

"I think you're safe." She curled up, resting her head on his shoulder. "How was your evening?"

"Uneventful," he replied. "Talked to Jean for awhile, without getting into specifics. She basically scolded me and told me I needed to learn more discipline," he continued sheepishly. "I suppose she's right. She didn't seem to think it was anything particularly dangerous, though."

"She also didn't know the whole story," Dom sighed. "Well, I guess it's not worth worrying about now." She adjusted the covers over her shoulders. "We heading back tomorrow?"

"Unless you've got something you need to tie up."

"Nope. I suppose we'll have to go brief X-Force on their new assignment once we're back, though. I... really don't like the looks of that whole situation. Something doesn't sit right with me."

"You either, huh? I can't put my finger on it, but you're right. I don't think this is going to end up being a simple pro-mutant activist group. That worries me. Things have been almost quiet lately."

"Calm before the storm," she murmured. "Well, no one ever said our job was easy."

----

"Sam, could I have a word with you?" Cannonball had been waiting in for them when they'd arrived at X-Force's headquarters.

"Sure thing. Anything the matter, sir?"

"No, but I've got a request from Xavier I want to run past you-- and you *are* the team leader, after all." Cable replied with a slight smile.

"I'll get the bags, Nate." Dom called from the doorway of the plane. "We gonna stay here for a few days, or what?"

"Probably a good idea. Depends on what X-Force thinks of this proposal."

"Like they'd pass up a chance for potential mayhem." She ducked back into the vehicle as Sam and Nate headed out of the hangar.

----

"Surveillance?" Tabitha made a face. "Xavier couldn't spare an X-Man or twenty to cover it?"

"Ah think it's a legitimate concern," Sam replied. "An' Cable and Dom seem t' agree with the X-Men's assessment of the situation. We've got a chance t' nip an ugly problem in the bud here, an' I think we should take it."

"I've got to agree with Sam on this one," James broke in. "They haven't injured anyone yet. If we can limit this to just property damage--" He paused. "What do you two think?" He glanced over at his other teammates.

"I dinnae see a reason not to," Theresa replied. "At worst, we spend a few nights watching warehouses. If we've got a chance to catch the ones responsible for bombing those facilities, we ought to at least try."

"I have to agree with the rest of the team... sorry Tab, but this really is the kind of thing we're *here* for, boring as it might be."

"Four t' one in favor, then? Looks like we got ourselves a mission. We'll meet back here at nineteen hundred hours to go over plans. You're dismissed."

"Very diplomatic," Cable commented after the rest of the team had shuffled out of the room.

"Well, Ah figure if we don't decide things as a team, we ain't gonna work well as a team, either. And we gotta pick our battles, so this is the best way of doin' it."

"Well, you've certainly got the air of authority down pat, Sam," Domino teased. "We better watch out Nate, pretty soon they won't want us around at all."

"Retirement might not be so bad," he countered. "Were you going to want us to stick around, Sam?"

"No offence sir, but I think we've got it covered. If something turns up we can always give you a call. It's not like we haven't tackled worse on our own before."

"Fair enough. I've got confidence in all of you. And I know you're a good leader, Sam."

"Ah appreciate that, sir."

----

"Is something the matter?" He glanced over at Dom, slouched in the passenger seat.

"Hrm?" She didn't turn away from the window. "Not really. Why?"

"You've been pretty quiet since we left Westchester, that's all."

"Ah." She paused. "Distracted, I guess. Nothing big." She sat up a bit straighter in her seat. "You think the kids are going to be able to handle this?"

"I don't see why not." He turned off the main road, gravel crunching and popping beneath the tires as he pulled up the driveway. It was days like this really missed the ability to bodyslide. The drive from San Francisco was close to nine hours. Maybe he could convince Dom to convert the garage to a hangar, he thought amusedly. "It shouldn't be that hard, and they've certainly had no problem operating on their own. Oath, I know I trained them to be independent--"

She smirked. "They learned pretty well, too. I'm glad they're adjusting."

"Adjusting," he repeated wryly. "That's one word for it. They couldn't get us out of there soon enough."

"They're like kids who've got the house to themselves for the weekend. Try not to be *too* offended by it." She unbuckled herself and reached into the back to grab her bag.

"I'm not," he replied, grabbing the rest of their luggage and walking towards the house. "It's just a little--"

"Weird?"

"Disconcerting. Too used to being in the middle of everything."

She nodded, unlocking the front door. "Okay, I can understand that. I took some down time when--um." She cleared her throat. "It was a bit strange, yeah. Different. But hell, neither of us is that young anymore. Besides," she continued with a lopsided grin. "It's sort of nice to be able to go an entire week without someone shooting at me."

"That is a plus," he agreed, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll take care of these." He grabbed her bag and disappeared down the hall.

Domino collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, eyes wandering over the semi-dark room. Four months they'd been here, and it still seemed slightly surreal. She still found herself looking over her shoulder, holding her breath as she waited for the other shoe to drop. It hadn't, not yet. But the letter that sat festering like a malevolent entity in the pocket of her jacket was an ominous sign of things that lay in wait. She sighed inwardly. This wasn't something she could just ignore. There was a promise of answers to questions she'd had for years--even if it didn't pan out, she wasn't sure she could let it go without some sort of investigation. Which meant telling Nathan, of course. Not that he wouldn't understand--

"You enjoying the dark?"

She jerked her head up. "Just sitting," she replied. "God it's quiet. I'd almost forgotten how loud it is around Xavier's." She leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Not that I miss it," she laughed. "Hell, if it was irritating me, it must have been giving you a migraine."

"Keeps me on my toes," he deadpanned. "Jean lectured me plenty on how sloppy I was getting."

Domino smirked. "That's just motherly concern for your well-being. I wonder if she realizes how ridiculous she look when she fusses over you like that."

"She probably doesn't care," he replied, taking a seat across from her. "I think she does it out of guilt, more than anything. She feels bad about having to leave me in the future, and I think she feels bad about things that happened with Rachel. Sort of ironic, when you think about it. I mean, we weren't even *her* kids..."

"Well, maybe that's not what matters to her. I mean, family isn't necessarily about blood. You know that. Tyler--" She stopped. "Actually, it's probably much to late to be having this particular conversation," she sighed. The atmosphere of the room had shifted almost imperceptibly, tensing slightly. She ran a hand over her face. "Yeah, way too late for this topic," she murmured, getting to her feet. She could feel Nate watching her as she left the room.

----

"Nate, you awake?" She nudged the considerable lump beside her with her elbow. Nothing. "Nathan. Hey, wake up." He muttered something indecipherable and rolled over, ignoring her. "Asshole. I'm hungry. Get up so we can go get breakfast." He mumbled something else into his pillow and continued to blithely ignore her. "Stupid, obstinate..." She gave him one more jab with her elbow and climbed out of bed.

The shower had been running for a full fifteen minutes before she heard the door open. "Are you almost done in there?" He grumbled, then chuckled as her hand appeared from behind the shower curtain and flipped him off. 

"If you weren't such a lazy bastard, you could have washed my hair for me."

"I thought you said you were hungry?" He grinned as she gave him the finger again. "At least you're in a good mood. Y'know, I could just make breakfast. I think there's a box of Bisquick in the cupboard someplace..."

She pulled back the curtain, pushing wet hair out of her face. "I want waffles," she replied, wrapping herself in a towel. "With strawberries."

He arched an eyebrow at her reflection in the mirror. "Well, if that's what you want..."

"Damn right." She finished drying off and wandered back into the bedroom to get dressed. "And hurry up," she called back to him. "Otherwise I'm gonna leave you behind."

----

"Happy now?"

"Yes." She spread whipped cream across a section of her waffle, then popped the piece into her mouth. 

Nathan leaned back against the cracked vinyl booth, sipping his coffee. He let his gaze drift around the small diner, almost empty except for a few patrons reading newspapers as they drank their coffee at the counter. Apparently one of Dom's preferred places to frequent, she'd been pleased to see the place was still in business when they'd moved back into the area. He liked it because it was usually quiet, the people kept to themselves, and the coffee was always hot. "You know, if you try to eat that any faster, you're liable to choke."

She arched an eyebrow at him, and only a quick flicker of his TK kept the salt shaker from hitting him in the head. His eyes scanned over the room quickly to see if anyone had witnessed the display, but no one was paying them any attention. "That was immature."

"Well, don't poke fun at my eating habits," she retorted.

"I wasn't--" He shook his head. "You could use a few extra pounds anyway."

She stuck her tongue out at him, then finished off her breakfast. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to talk about a woman's weight?"

"No... must be one of those cultural things I never got the hang of," he deadpanned. "I wasn't trying to nag," he amended.

"I know." She ran a hand back through her hair. "Ready to go?"

"I was just waiting for you." He picked up the check and headed to the register while Dom walked outside to wait, leaning against the wall next to the door.

The sky was overcast with a dreary pre-rain feel to it, and the wind was almost biting. It didn't look as if there'd be an Indian Summer this year. She zipped up her jacket and straightened as Nathan exited the diner. "Looks like it might rain," she commented idly as they walked back to the car.

"It does seem to do that a lot here," he murmured. "How'd I let you talk me into living someplace so... wet?"

"My natural charm and charisma?" She smirked.

"Charming like a snake," he grumbled good naturedly.

"I think I'm insulted. Oh, don't pout--that is *so* not going to work this time, mister. You are so pathetic."

"Oath, I am *not.*"

"Are too." She pulled open the driver side door and climbed in. "Every time I make fun of you, you sulk like a scolded three year old. You're just damned lucky I find the puppy-dog look endearing, or I'd have shot you before now."

"You *have* shot me."

"You got in the way," she replied offhandedly. "Besides, it was barely a graze. Consider yourself fortunate."

"Your sympathy astonishes me."

"Oh, please. If I started feeling sorry for you every time you complained, I'd end up shooting *myself.*"

"Well, we wouldn't want that."

"Exactly. So suck it up, and be glad Oregon doesn't have a monsoon season."

----

"Nate?"

"Yeah?" He walked into the kitchen to see Domino standing by the table, holding two coffee mugs. He set down the papers he'd been going over. "Something up?"

She walked over and pressed one of the cups into his hand. "Are you busy?"

"I was just going over some information regarding those bombings..." He replied, looking slightly baffled. "I've got resources the X-Men aren't exactly privy to--"

"Can it wait for a bit? I--um. There's something I need to talk to you about, and I think if I don't do it now, I'm gonna lose my nerve."

----

"It's authentic?" He asked, noticing the way she kept avoiding his gaze.

"It's hard to say," she replied slowly, staring down at her cup. "I never met the man, to be honest. But he knows things, Nate..." She frowned. "If it's not, someone went to a hell of a lot of trouble just to pull a sick prank."

"Interesting timing."

"Or just bad," she replied wryly. "Things always do have a tendency to pop up just when I think I've finally put them behind me."

"What do you want to do about this?" She hadn't shown him the letter, not that he was surprised. He knew first hand how painful trying to deal with one's past--especially pasts as convoluted as theirs were--could be.

She sighed, resting her head on her hand. "I'm not sure. There's a lot of stuff implied in his letter--" She bit her lip. "I'm not sure if I really want to know the answers, y'know? I've just gotten free of my own private little hell here, Nathan. What if this is more than I can deal with? I could burn the thing here and now, and just be done with it."

He nodded slowly. "Your choice. It might give you a chance for closure on this if you decide to pursue it."

"Maybe," she replied as she started straightening up the kitchen, just for something to do. "Is it really even that much of an issue?"

"Enough of one that I know it bothers you," he replied. "Does he want to meet you?"

"He didn't say that, exactly." Dishes clattered in the sink. "More like--I think he was trying to persuade me. He filled in a few details I haven't been able to come up with myself--" He watched her shoulders tense, then relax again. "I've lived with this for a long time. It'd be so easy just to leave it be. Maybe I'm just... afraid of what I might find out." She turned, drying her hands.  
"I need time for this all just to... settle. I think I'm gonna take the bike out for a bit." He nodded, giving in almost too easily, she noticed with a slight twinge of disappointment. "Dunno when I'll be back..."

Nathan ran a hand back through his hair, quickly erasing the frown from his expression and holding in a sigh. "Okay." His eyes flicked up to her own. "You're sure..."

"I just need a little distance. I'll be fine."

He nodded again. "Alright."

----

The cold air was raising goose bumps on her skin as Domino sat on the concrete patio behind the house. With a mild twinge of self-loathing, she took a draw on her cigarette, watching the smoke drift off in the evening sky as she exhaled. Behind her, she heard the scrape of the sliding door opening and quickly scrubbed the cigarette out on the pavement. 

"It's cold out here," Nathan commented, "Come inside?"

"Not yet," she replied as he sat down next to her. "I just need..." She trailed off, shrugging. "You don't need to stay out here."

"I'll leave if you want."

"No," she said slowly, "you can stay."

Cable leaned back against the siding of the house, watching Domino's profile as she stared off into the woods that bordered the yard. "You haven't smoked in years," he ventured finally.

"Bad habit," she replied without turning to face him. "When I was a kid--" she stopped short, continuing after a pause. "Smokes and booze was about all we had. Guess I just fall back on it when I'm feeling unbalanced."

"Make a decision yet?"

"I--this isn't an easy thing to do. But I suppose you know that."

A short bark of laughter escaped him before he could check it. "Let's not go there."

"Well, I suppose I couldn't make a worse first impression than I did with *your* parents," she said wryly. He could hear a trace of mirth in her voice. "Second or third for that matter. I have this nasty habit of bringing you home in pieces."

"Haven't gotten rid of me yet."

"Don't plan on it, either. I've kind of gotten used to having you around."

"I'm glad." They fell into silence, broken only by the sound of wind through the trees.

Domino spoke finally, looking over at him for the first time since his arrival. "When--" her voice was tentative. "When you said 'forever...' did you--mean it?"

He reached over, sliding his hand loosely into her own. "Yes."

"You said the same to Aliya."

"The man I was then will always love her," he said after a long moment. "But that's--I'm not the same person I was then. I meant what I said, Dom. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

"Good," she said hoarsely, fingers tightening around his own. "Because I don't think I want to be alone."


	2. 

Mercury  
2/9 

_"I wish there could have been--"_

_"Daddy!"_

She started, eyes fluttering open to the darkened room. She took a deep breath, tried to slow the frantic pounding of her heart, and glanced over to make sure she hadn't disturbed Nathan. Still asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was better for both of them when he slept through her nightmares. She beat on her pillow a little and curled up on her side, dragging the blanket up around her shoulders. Outside the window, moonlight was fading in and out as clouds started to obscure the sky. She watched its intermittent glow on the dew soaked yard as she lay sleepless and uneasy.  
Beside her, Nate stirred, not awake but perhaps sensing her disquiet unconsciously, and she sighed at the familiar weight of his arm sliding around her waist, taking a small comfort in his proximity. Outside, the night began to fade, daylight muted by quietly hissing rain.

----

His first thought upon waking was that he felt remarkably good, given yesterday's surprises. He turned, eyes settling on Domino's side of the bed. She was turned away from him, the sheet that covered her doing little to disguise the graceful lines of her body. Her hair spilled over her shoulder and trailed down her bare back, black as coal against her fair skin. He lay there watching the slow rise and fall of her ribcage as she breathed, etching the moment into his mind. "You awake?"

She rolled onto her back and turned her eyes on him, lips curving in an amused smile. He remembered how disorientating that gaze of hers had always been. Back when she'd first joined the Wild Pack, it had been unsettling to say the least. She was friendly enough with the others, but she'd _watched_ him, as if trying to see inside his head so she could understand him. "What are you doing?"

"Watching you." He traced fingertips down the length of her collarbone, to the hollow of her neck. He'd wanted something more for her, in those early days. Long before he could have claimed to know her at all. All he could see was a woman--barely more than a girl, with an intellect honed by experiences she never should have had and eyes shadowed by abuse no person should ever have had to bear. Another child sacrificed to the injustice of the world. It had made him uncomfortable in her presence, the feelings of anger and helplessness she managed to evoke in him.  
Now, after so many years, those emotions had faded to a dull ache. His fingers continued their journey down her sternum, the valley between her breasts, and her lean torso, finally laying his palm on the flat of her stomach. Her eyes were closed, that trace of a smile still lingering on her lips. Her hand moved to cover his own. He closed his own eyes, concentrating on the feel of her skin beneath his hand. She could have been so much more... "Have you ever thought of doing something else?"

"Something else?"

"Instead of this life," he said, almost sorry he'd asked the question. He didn't want this moment to end.

"No. I don't think there was ever a choice."

"Maybe."

"There are worse things I could have become."

"Better things too," he murmured.

"Maybe." She lifted his hand from her stomach. "It seems so wrong," she said, running a thumb across the back of his hand, turning it over, tracing the lines of his palm, his fingers. "That times like these are the only times we can let ourselves feel anything. Like the sunlight would destroy us if we tried to live like normal people."

"We've never been normal."

"No," she smiled. "That's a safe assertion. Think about it," she said quietly. "When I was just a little brat, you were off fighting battles already. I'm right, aren't I? There's what--ten, fifteen years between us?"

"Something like that. Time travel is... funny."

"Funny. To put it lightly. I mean, you want to get _technical,_ I'm the way-older woman." She smiled lopsidedly. "Hell, for all I know, I'm older than your parents, though I'll beg you not to confirm that, I don't think I could handle that little twist."

"What put you in the mood to try and figure us out all of the sudden?" He captured her hand in his own and rested it on his chest.

"We never talk about it. We never talk about anything. Or rather, we never _say_ anything. We swear at each other, and yell, and fuck to make it all better afterwards, but I could count on one hand the number of real, civil conversations we've had in the past ten years."

"Half that time you were barely speaking to me."

"That's my point. We always fell back on not talking." She freed her hand, running it along his left arm, a thoughtful look on her face. "What does that feel like?"

"Not much," he said. "Pressure... but the sensation is muted."

She nodded slowly. "Sometimes I can almost trick myself into forgetting." Her voice was soft. "You haven't fooled me, you know."

"Hm?"

"Your TK isn't as strong as it used to be, is it? Not by a long shot." She sighed. "Did you think that by not mentioning it, I somehow wouldn't notice?"

He flopped back on the pillows heavily, hands behind his head. "You didn't need the stress."

Her smile was a sad one. "This isn't something inconsequential, Nate."

"No," he replied. "But manageable. I just have to be careful." He glanced over at her. "We've been down this road before."

"It's different now," she sighed. "You're used to using your powers more. I know I'm certainly not an expert on this sort of thing, but that's going to be a liability."

"Jean thinks with enough training I could probably regain some of what I lost."

"But never all of it."

"No." He shifted again so he could look her in the eye. "I always knew killing Apocalypse was going to cost me," he said. 

"You always thought it'd kill you," she corrected quietly.

"It should have." He reached out and stroked the side of her face lightly. "I'm not going anywhere, Dom."

"Yeah. I--" Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath. "I know you're fine, for the most part. But then I remember watching the T-O tear you apart after we beat Onslaught, thinking you were gonna die right there in front of me. It still hurts, y'know?"

"I've watched you throw yourself into insane situations hundreds of times," he countered.

"Not the same. That's part of the job. And you've pulled plenty of suicidal stunts in your day, lout. This is... different. Even if we decided to be regular nine-to-five people tomorrow, this wouldn't go away." She said, laying back down on her own side of the bed. "I'm sorry. I just--" She shook her head. "Things are a bit mixed up, I'm looking for stable ground, and you're it."

He chuckled quietly. "Stable? That's a new one."

"Well, comparatively--" She trailed off, smiling slightly at the look on his face. "We're so damaged."

"Oh, I think we do all right..." He turned on his side, reaching out to gently tangle his fingers in her hair, watching as it cascaded from his grip, reflecting the dim light of the grey, rainy morning. She reached out and pulled him down to her, skin like silk against his own. He looked down into her face, thumbs brushing lightly over the perfect ivory of her shoulders. If he closed his eyes, he could feel every contour of her lean body beneath him. To think that he'd been afraid for so long to get close to her, to let himself feel this... he'd been so reluctant to let himself love her.

She shifted, a wicked smile flashing across her face at the stifled groan it elicited from him. "You just going to stare at me all day?" She asked teasingly.

"I could," he murmured, and trailed a kiss along her neck, "if you'd like..."

"That'd hardly do anything for me," she replied a bit huskily.

_#Well, we certainly can't have that...#_ He heard her gasp, hands tightening reflexively on his shoulders as his mouth slid lower, their link pulsating with intertwined desires. He focused on that place where her mind bled over into his own, no longer her thoughts or his, but theirs, something wholly different and so earth-shatteringly beautiful he wanted to stop and examine it, revel in its brilliance. He laughed inwardly as Dom mentally threatened to kill him if he did any such thing.  
She drew him back up to her, mouth capturing his own in a hungry kiss as need burned over the link like a sweet ache. Her face was flushed, skin as hot as his own as she pressed against him. This was stronger than lust, more than just sex. She was a part of him, joined on more than just a physical level, and all her feelings were laid bare for him to see. It was as beautiful as she was, and he gave in kind, offering up what was in his heart without the awkward need for words.

----

Cable leaned in the doorway of the living room watching Dom, seated cross-legged on the floor, meticulously going over the contents of their armory. One slender hand would reach out, choosing a gun from the pile. Violet eyes would give the piece close scrutiny, and then she'd lay it aside in a growing pile on her right.

"Something happening I haven't heard about?" He crossed the room, leaning against the arm of the couch. 

She looked over the weapons spread out on the floor before her. "I've made up my mind." She glanced up, meeting his eyes. "For better or worse, I want to pursue this. I can't just leave it as is. I've got too much at stake now."

He nodded. "How do you want to go about it, then?"

She sighed, leaning back against the front of the couch. "Call the kids, head down there early tomorrow. I want to see what I can find from a few contacts before I make any other plans." She paused. "There's stuff we need to talk about, but I need some time."

"And what am I supposed to tell them?"

She rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "Nothing, for now. I'm not sure I want them involved."

"They're going to ask."

"I know. I'll deal with that once we're there, okay? I have *no* idea what I'm going to turn up here. I don't want to do anything until I know a little more."

He nodded again, and went to the phone in the kitchen. Domino started gathering up the weapons on the floor and went to pack.

----

They left at four the following morning, Domino taking the first shift at the wheel. Nate dozed on and off next to her as she navigated the interstate, heading south toward the California border. At eight, they pulled off to get something to eat.

"You want me to take over?"

She picked at her bagel. "Sure. I didn't sleep much before we left... maybe I can catch a nap."

He nodded and sipped his coffee. "How much information do we have to go on?"

She closed her eyes, leaning on her hand. "A couple of names, a city. A few other details. I want to see how much pans out. Might not go anywhere."

"But you think it will. You wouldn't be doing this otherwise."

"Yeah. He--whoever wrote that damned letter, even if they're not who they claim to be, they know things, Nathan. Things no one else does--that no one else _could._ I can't ignore that. It's too dangerous."

He reached across the table, resting his hand lightly on hers. "If you want to talk about it..."

She shook her head. "There's not much to say, anyway. It's not that I don't trust you, Nate. I do, but... you know how it is. There are some things that just hurt to much to talk about." She got up and pulled on her coat. "We should get going. There's still a long drive ahead of us."

----

They called the warehouse when they were just outside San Francisco, and Sam was waiting for them when they pulled into the garage. He helped carry the bags inside, despite a muttered protest from Dom. 

"It's uncharacteristically quiet around here." She eyed Sam. "Did you finally duct tape their mouths shut and lock them in the closet?"

He chuckled. "No, ma'am. Much as I may want to some days... Terry an' Jimmy are out trying to find out a bit more about GenCorp's operations. Tab and Bobby are around here someplace, I s'pose..."

"It's even clean. I'm truly amazed, Guthrie. Looks like you've been keeping everyone on their toes."

"Well, I had plenty of good teachers in that respect," he replied. "The computer room should be all in order, if ya want to get down to business." 

"I'll take the bags upstairs," Cable grabbed the luggage from the floor where they'd set it upon entering the house. Domino nodded and headed off down the hall towards the communications suite.

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Cannonball asked, after watching his former team leader vanish down the corridor.

"Sure," he headed towards the stairs, and Sam followed behind.

"Is Dom alright? There are a few rumors driftin' around about her. An' frankly, she doesn't look all that great."

Cable sighed, setting the bags down in he and Dom's old room, then turned to face the young man. "I'm not going to lie to you, Sam, and I don't know what you've heard. Dom's dealing with some stuff right now, and most of it isn't pretty. But I think she's going to be okay. She needs time."

That seemed to be sufficient explanation, and Sam nodded. "Ah can understand that. Part of me knows it's pointless to worry 'bout her, but Ah can't help it any more than I can help worryin' 'bout any of X-Force. Y'all are like mah family."

"She'd probably be flattered you felt that way," Nate replied. "Not that she'd let you know that, of course."

"No, I reckon she wouldn't," Sam chuckled.

----

"Where do we start?"

"Death records, I guess," she replied grimly. "I'm pretty sure the names I've got aren't for people who're still alive and kicking." She looked over at a legal pad that had some notes scribbled on it. "See if you can find anything on a 'Kristian Matthew Gaines.' ...worked with the US government, apparently, but that's all I know." She sighed. "I have a distinct feeling I'm going to be at this for a long time." They settled in at the computer and got down to work.

  
  


Cable leaned back in his chair, looking over the scant information he'd been able to gather from the databases X-Force's computer system had access to. All he'd been able to find was that Gaines _had_ worked for the government--the CIA, to be precise, but everything about his time with the agency was buried beyond even their ability to access it. Domino was currently on the phone with G.W., who was in turn going to try to pull a few favors for her. He stood from his chair with a slight wince, glancing at the time. "Going to turn in. I don't think there's anything left for me to find, for the time being."

Dom nodded, still engrossed in her conversation, and he headed out of the room. He found Sam still awake, drinking hot chocolate in the kitchen. He looked up. "How's it goin'? Findin' whatever it is you're looking for?"

"Sort of," Cable replied. "Dom's chasing down a few more leads. I'm going to bed. If you're still up, chase her off before it gets too late? She hardly sleeps as is."

"Sure thing. Ah'm just going over some stuff Westchester sent us earlier."

"Turned anything up yet?"

"Nope. Maybe they caught on that the buildings are bein' watched. Wish we knew more 'bout what was going on."

"I think we all do, Sam," he replied tiredly. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sure thing, sir." He went back to sorting through his paperwork, and Cable headed upstairs.

----

Domino rubbed at her eyes blearily, trying to concentrate on the computer screen in front of her. G.W. had managed to get her a few more leads on Gaines, and there was a promise of more forthcoming, once he had time to work on it. She rolled her shoulders and scrolled through the information on the screen. There was a quiet noise behind her, and she turned her head to see Sam standing in the doorway holding two mugs. 

"Am Ah interrupting?" He asked, walking over to the computer station. He set one of the mugs down next to her. 

"No, I was just--" she shook her head and sighed. "Getting frustrated, mostly." She picked up the coffee mug and took a sip. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he replied, taking a sip from his own mug, which she had a sneaking suspicion contained hot chocolate. "It's almost three AM."

"I guess I wasn't watching the clock," she said.

"Find anything?"

"Not much," she replied. "It seems most of the files were never declassified, and almost nothing was put on databases. We're looking for information more than thirty years old." She sighed. "We might have to go in after it."

"Ma'am, can Ah ask you something?"

"Sure," she replied, turning back to the console. The printer at the other end of the room started up noisily. 

"What exactly is this all about? X-Force is more than happy t' help out, but they _are_ mah team now. Ah kinda feel obligated to find out what Ah'm gettin' them into."

She sighed again and rubbed absently at the side of her head, as if trying to ward off a headache. "Sam--I can't really get into it. It's personal."

"With all due respect, you an' Cable taught us to never walk into situations blindly."

"I know... I'm sorry, but this is just something you'll have to trust us on. I don't think it's something I want you guys involved in."

"Ah'm not sure I like that."

"You don't _have_ to like it," she said, gathering the documents from the printer tray and heading for the door. "It's just the way it is."

"An' you don't trust us enough to explain?"

She paused, glancing back at him. "I'm sorry, Sam," she replied, and left the room.


	3. 

Mercury  
3/9 

_A sharp cry echoed through the night, muffled voices in the hall. She held her breath, eyes wide as she stared up into the darkness, praying that the footsteps would continue past the door. He muscles tensed under the sheets as they stopped.  
A faint arc of light fell across the bed where she lay and vanished again as the door clicked closed softly. Breathing echoed loudly in the dark room, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, becoming a deafening rush. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard as outside, the sound of broken sobs echoed off concrete walls. She lay very still as the footsteps approached and she felt the sheets move. The room was black as pitch._

_There was a gun under the pillow. She could feel it pressing into the back of her skull, aching to be used, if she'd only twist her arm around... But the grip on her shoulders was crushing, and she didn't dare move. There'd be bruises in the morning, she knew. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from making a sound. She could have blown his brains out, if only she'd move her arm, if only she could move past the pain. The sobbing outside abruptly stopped._

She seemed suddenly deaf and blind, as if the whole world had pulled away and left her in darkness, shaking. If only she could stop the shaking, she thought, she'd be okay.

"--wrong?" Sense returned abruptly, and her head jerked sideways at the noise. "Dom?"

Her eyes locked on his in the darkness, holding his gaze even as her head dropped to rest on the tops of her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself. There was a kind of grim understanding on his face.

He reached out tentatively, unsure if she'd let him touch her. She flinched but didn't pull away, and he wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face in his shoulder. He could feel her shaking, almost silent sobs, desperate but tearless.

_She stood unsteadily in the doorway, watching as they carried the body away, still-fresh blood dripping down a bare arm. She watched it fall in bright red drops on the concrete floor._

He'd always known, deep down, the things that had to have happened to her, but he'd been able to feign ignorance, fool himself because she'd coped so well, because of her lack of fear. He was living a nightmare all over again, watching in a different time and place as the same old evil reared its head.

"I'm sorry." Her voice still held on to a trace of its strength.

"Oath... never apologize." He tightened his arms around her. "Don't ever..." He heard her sigh, could feel her wrestling with her emotions, gathering up her strength and taking control.

"I was over it. Goddamnit... I was okay." She sounded tired and angry. "I don't know if I can forgive him for opening all of this up again..." She un-tensed, relaxing, probably, by sheer force of will, and looked up at him. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, giving voice to the fear that had been lurking unsaid. "You've never--we..." She laid her head back on his shoulder.

"It's okay." He rubbed her back soothingly. "We'll get this all figured out."

----

He was only mildly surprised to find Dom gone when he woke up. She'd probably already gone back to work in the computer room. Once she set her mind on something, it was hard to get her to back off again. He shook his head ruefully and got dressed, heading downstairs.  
X-Force was assembled in the kitchen, in various stages of their morning meal. Theresa glanced up from the morning paper. "Morning, Cable." She reached over and took a bite of her English muffin.

"Morning," he mumbled in reply, making a beeline for the coffee maker.

"It's not polite to force him to make small talk before his third cup of coffee, Terry," Roberto joked, warding off Tabitha's attempt to steal the comics page from him.

"Funny," Cable replied dryly, sipping his coffee as he watched the ensuing wrestling match.

"Aw c'mon, Bobby. I just want to--"

"No way. I had it first."

"Domino's in the computer room," Jimmy commented as he deposited his cereal bowl in the sink. On his way past, he snagged the paper from his still bickering teammates. 

"Hey!"

"Jimmy! No fair!"

Cable chuckled from behind the shield of his cup, and headed down the hall to find his partner. She was sitting in front of the bank of computers, feet up on the console, reading over a stack of papers. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not really." She sipped her coffee. "G.W. got back to me, though." She cleared away more print-outs so he could sit down. "Gaines was working undercover in some Soviet test program codenamed Operation: Reachdeep. They were training first-generation mutants as covert operatives. They'd grab them as teenagers, take them in, look after them while they were being trained. For most of those kids, it was probably the best thing that'd ever happened to them." She pursed her lips. "It's like Xavier's, only without the altruistic goals to back it up. These people were trained specifically for a war that never happened. Even G.W. couldn't find what Gaines was doing there--probably gathering information so the US could strike back if necessary, but he bailed on the project after only two years. Came back to the states, resigned from the CIA, and dropped out of sight."

"What happened to the project?"

"Shut down when the Soviet Union dissolved and the Cold War ended, as far as I can tell. There aren't any official records of its existence, and it appears the Soviets never actually used the people they trained." Domino leaned back in her chair. "One question answered, ten more pop up in its place." She shook her head. "I suppose it was too much to hope for an easy solution."

"Probably." Cable leafed through some of the printouts. "Do you think Gaines is behind this, then?"

"I honestly have no idea," she replied. "These are just pieces of a larger puzzle, here. We need the big picture."

"You've got a suggestion?"

"Depends. How do you feel about a road trip?"

----

"Tonopah, Nevada. Lovely. I really had enough of the desert when we were at Camp Verde." Domino turned the car on to the main street, heading into town. "I suppose we should find someplace to stay, then hit the library."

"Going low tech?" He chuckled.

"This town was in the letter, with a year attached. The national searches came up empty, except for saying that it's an old mining town and the national parks are supposed to be nice. That means whatever this refers to, it's got to be something local. Libraries usually have local papers on microfiche going back a couple decades." She pulled off at a gas station. "Gonna find out what sort of lodging's around here." She unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door. "Be right back." He watched her walk inside and talk to the clerk behind the counter, then walk back out to the car with an information booklet. "Okay, let's see what we've got," she said, sitting back down. "OK corral Inn... um, no. Clown Motel..." she arched an eyebrow at the page. "Next to the Historic Miner's Cemetery. That's supposed to be a selling point?"

"I think I'll pass," he replied.

"Me too. There's a Best Western... I think that's gonna be the best option, unless you like Mom and Pop establishments."

"No, that sounds fine."

"Kay. Let me call ahead and make sure there's a room," she replied, digging around for her cell phone. "This being such hot tourist destination and all," she smirked, and dialed the hotel's number.

----

"Library's closed for the day." Domino said, flopping backwards on the bed. "Just as well. I don't think I'm up to sitting any more after all the driving we've done. Remind me again why we didn't just fly out here?"

"You didn't want to deal with the airport, he replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking down at her intently.

She frowned slightly. "What?"

Nate shook his head. "Nothing." He brushed stray strands of hair from her forehead. "You're being very calm about all of this."

She stood up abruptly, shoving his hand away. "There's no point in getting worked up, is there? Not until I have hard facts."

"There's nothing wrong with feeling something... apprehension or--Bright Lady," he murmured under his breath with a sigh as she stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door. Deciding it was best not to pursue the matter, he left the room, wandering down to the lobby and then out of the hotel, walking the streets aimlessly without a direction in mind. This place held the promise of answers, answers to questions he found himself wishing had never been asked. Domino had fallen into a disturbingly familiar pattern over the last few days--quiet, close-mouthed about anything she might have been thinking, avoiding all discussion of the possible repercussions what they found here might have. She was hiding emotions from him and from herself, buried so deeply that all he got was a faint, disquieted stirring along the link. Her silence, he knew, was more dangerous than her anger could ever be.  
He turned to walk back, feeling a faint trace of something sinister on the breeze as the sun slipped out of sight behind the San Antonio range, a chill running through him that had nothing to do with the cooling desert air. 

It wasn't terribly late when he returned, but Dom was curled up in bed asleep, the air conditioner cranked to apparently accommodate the sweatshirt she'd chosen as sleepwear. It was his, though he'd long given up all hope of ever getting it back He moved around the room quietly, putting their luggage by the door, picking up the towel she'd let fall in a heap on the floor. He returned it to the rack in the bathroom, catching a glimpse in the full-length door mirror of two orange prescription bottles that sat innocuously on the counter. 

He'd grown to hate the sight of them--a quiet, daily reminder that things weren't quite right, and might not be for a long whole yet. Dom hated the dependence. The antidepressant she took regularly--her fear of slipping again overcame her disdain for the thing--but she still played games with her insomnia. At some point, it had become about control to her. Somewhere in her mind, she regarded it a sign of weakness. The quirk wasn't a new one, he'd always had to coerce her into taking something, even when she'd had migraines bad enough to blind _him._ And to be reliant for something as simple as a decent night's sleep was a constant thorn in her side. Granted, his own views on the subject were probably a bit skewed--he figured as long as he could walk under his own power, he was basically fine. It was a conviction forged from the constant pain of the virus--it never went away, so there was no point in complaining. It'd become as normal as breathing to him, and if he could deal with that, any additional discomfort was negligible. Or so he liked to delude himself.  
He ate dinner alone, then read the newspaper in the lobby so as not to disturb his partner, both because he knew she needed the sleep and because he didn't want to face her wrath if her woke her. He chuckled to himself, remembering what she'd done to X-Force the last time they'd been dumb enough bother her after a particularly long mission. Where as his form of retribution tended to be direct and to the point, Dom's was torturously subtle and prolonged. The kids had whined for weeks afterward, and Dom had walked around with a particularly smug grin plastered on her face. After that, they'd been careful to give her a wide berth when she was tired or otherwise annoyed. The eleven o'clock news droned on the television set as he finished reading, and headed back to their room. He showered and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, turning down the air-con before climbing into bed beside Dom. He slid his hand along the curve of her hip and she stirred, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep and shifting closer to him. He closed his eyes, breathing in the clean smell of her hair, her warmth radiating against him, sinking into his chest and uncurling with a languid calm, despite his worries of what tomorrow might reveal.

----

_"She's not happy about this."_

_"I don't care what she thinks," he replied. "I've lost my wife and one daughter already. They can't take Nika as well. They've promised me..."_

_"It will be taken care of, Andrei. You have my word," Viktor replied. "I think we're ready to begin."_

_"She'll make sure she doesn't remember any of this?" He peered through the two-way glass, past the brunette telepath at the 12 year old restrained in a chair on the other end of the small room. "That was the deal. I'd bring her, but she wouldn't be allowed to remember."_

#Damn you.# _The woman on the other side of the glass glared at them with eyes full of hate, despite not being able to see them herself._ #She's only a child!#

_"There's no choice. She can't be allowed to know. If she did--"_

#You couldn't lie to her.# _The mental words were full of venom._ #Can't let her know what a bastard you really are.#

_"I was only following orders, Jacalyn, just like you will now."_

#Monster.# _Hatred dripped from the voice in his head._ #You're no better than a common rapist. You're just using me as your weapon,# _she seethed. He could feel her helpless anger, a futile rage she hadn't known since the day her powers had emerged, turning her from a mute, deaf, institutionalized teenager into something more. Something better, he thought. Her derisive laugh rang through his head, challenging the thought._

_She turned away from the glass. _#May God forgive us all.#

_Jacalyn closed her eyes and focused on the girl in front of her. Supposedly, she was only to remove certain memories, but her skills were mediocre at best. It was like trying to perform brain surgery with a chainsaw. She steeled herself and continued, though she could feel the girl's agony with every sloppy swipe she took, making a mockery of the art until the 'walls' ran red with spattered blood. She leaned back in the chair and opened her eyes, wincing at the headache that was already forming. The girl was slumped in her chair unconscious, blood trickling from her nose._

Andrei Dashkov sat up at his desk and groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. That nightmare gave him no rest. That bitch had dumped it all on him afterwards, a crushing wave of thoughts and emotions, hers and his daughter's, all of it burned indelibly into his memory. _#You've killed her now,#_ she'd accused. _#Her blood is on your hands. I doubt she'll ever wake up, let alone become another soldier for the state.#_

Command had felt the same. There was no room for an invalid in the program, send the girl away. Anywhere, it didn't matter. He'd told Viktor to make the arrangements. He hadn't wanted to know about it. "The beginning of the end," he murmured, and hit the intercom button.

"Sir." The voice on the other end responded crisply, efficiently. No tangled emotions here. Much simpler.

"Prepare an envoy. We're heading to base 81 in the morning."

"Sir?"

"I'm expecting some guests."

----

_#Anything?#_

_'All I'm getting is eyestrain,'_ she joked weakly. _'You?'_

_#Nothing. I suppose it would have been too much work to be more specific?#_

_'Why be direct when you can be obtuse?'_

_#Was that a cheap shot?#_

_'My shots are _never_ cheap.'_ Her 'voice' sounded vaguely insulted. _'I think giving specifics would have ruined the game.'_

_#Not sure I like the sound of that...#_

_'You don't think I'm being lead?'_ She leaned back in her seat, stretching before she started looking over the next pile of films. Two tables away, Nathan was still bent over his viewer. He looked up as he felt her attention shift to him.

_#I didn't want to say anything,#_ he replied, _#but it does seem that way.#_

She sighed. _'I was sort of hoping I was imagining it.'_ She fed the next microfiche sheet into the machine.

_#I know...#_ he trailed off, apparently distracted by something he was reading.

_'Nate?'_

_#I think I just found something.#_

----

"You okay?" It was a stupid question. In light of what they'd found, anyone would be upset, but he didn't like the shell-shocked expression on his partner's face. She sat on the edge of the hotel bed, still clutching copies of the news articles he'd found in one hand.

"I--" She ran her free hand back through her hair and closed her eyes. "I knew, I guess, that it wasn't likely to be pretty..."

"I guess it rules out Gaines as the letter writer."

"Being dead will do that, yeah." The joke fell flat. She looked again at the papers in her hand. "A hundred bucks bets you it wasn't robbery."

"Doesn't seem terribly likely, no. They both worked at the test site?"

"Yeah... good cover for an ex-CIA agent. Who the hell'd think to look for him at a military test site? You think the government covered it up?"

"Possibly. Dom, I--"

She sighed. "Nate, please don't. Don't tell me you sympathize, or whatever line it is you're thinking of laying on me. I don't even remember these people. Maybe I should feel _something,_ knowing they died like this, but--" she shook her head.

"Do you have any idea what could have really gone on there? I don't know how much you remember..."

"There are these bits and pieces floating around, sort of jumbled and out of context. In my dreams sometimes... it's like I can see some things, but the reasons for them, the events they're a part of aren't there anymore. I can remember hiding someplace in the desert, thinking it was part of a game. But my sister was scared. I remember that fear."

"You remember her, then."

"My sister? Yeah." She drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs. "I hated her. I can remember that. We moved around a lot, and I blamed her-- she must have been trying to protect us from whoever..." She trailed off. "I don't really want to talk about this."

"What happened?"

"She died," Domino replied simply. "I always felt it was my fault." She unfolded her legs and retreated to the far end of the bed, where she curled up, back towards him. He could feel her retreating mentally as well, virtual doors closing, pushing memories and emotions away.

"You said that in Madripoor, you hadn't remembered a thing."

"I didn't. It was like I woke up there. Total amnesia. The memories didn't come until later, after Logan got me out of there and I started getting over the trauma. I was real messed up for awhile." Her voice was laced with black humor. "Things started coming back in pieces--sights, sounds, something would trigger it, and there'd be a whole new piece to the puzzle. It's been years since anything new showed itself, though. And I still didn't know who I was. It was almost more cruel than remembering nothing at all." Her voice was choked. He got up and sat down next to her, hand resting on her shoulder. "It was like watching parts of someone else's life. Someone else, my body." A tear ran across her nose and down her cheek. "Until I read that news article today, I couldn't even be sure of my own damned name. I've seen my share of monsters, Nathan. But what kind of person does that to a child?"

----

She'd locked herself in the bathroom. He could hear her talking quietly on her cell phone--to who, he didn't know, though the list was fairly small. He didn't plan on asking, either, despite the vague feeling of jealousy he had at knowing she'd rather talk to someone else than let him in on what she was thinking. Their link had a hollow, subdued quality to it, and he found himself getting inexplicably frustrated over the whole thing. He wanted her to talk to him, to tell him *something,* even if it was to say she really didn't feel up to talking. It would have been reassuring just to hear her *say* something instead of facing him with a stony wall of silence. He wanted to see some emotion in her eyes, even if it was pain, just to have a sign that somewhere inside, Dom was still alive and kicking. It was irritating and, he admitted, hurtful, that she still didn't trust him enough to stop hiding behind all the little tricks she'd built up over the years.  
It made him want to shout at her and point out how flonqing self-destructive she was still acting, despite all her convictions to do otherwise. And the anger made him feel guilty--yelling at her would be about as productive as screaming at a child that didn't know any better.  
She finally emerged, face scrubbed red and eyes bleary. She all but ignored him as she walked over to the dresser, pulling on worn cotton pj pants and a shapeless tank top--a clear, non-verbal sign that she wanted no part of any sort of comforting he might offer. She climbed into bed, as far over on her side as was possible, and buried her head in the pillows. With a sigh, he went to get changed, switching off the light before laying down beside her.

In the darkness, the space between them was the yawning expanse of an ocean. Her shores were untouchable and shadowed, hidden from his understanding. Was he trying too hard? It didn't seem right to do nothing, as easy as it would have been. Inattentiveness was what had driven her off the last time; maybe he was being oversensitive because of it. But every time he'd almost convinced himself that it was true, that he was simply overreacting, he'd feel that dull ache leaking from her end of their link and his convictions would crumble like a sandcastle in the midst of a hurricane. He stared up at the ceiling, peering into the darkness with enough intensity to make spots dance before his eyes, and took a deep breath before reaching over and brushing his fingers along the length of Dom's arm. 

"Nate..." She sounded irritated and tired, though she didn't push his hand away.

"I know you don't want to talk to me," he said. "But don't pretend I'm not here."

Her heard her sigh, and the blankets rustled as she turned. "I'm not... Look, it's not that I don't want you here, Nathan. I ...I'm glad you're here. I dunno if I'd be able to handle this alone. There's just some stuff that I don't really think you need to know. It's not spite, it's not that I don't trust you. But knowing wouldn't do any good. It'd just hurt you, and that's just about the last thing on Earth I'd want to do. Can we just drop it?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"No, of course you wouldn't," she muttered under her breath. "You're in a sharing kind of mood." She sat up abruptly. "What is it you want me to say?"

"Let me know what you're thinking, maybe?"

"I don't know!" She cried. "I don't know what I'm supposed to think. Christ, this isn't exactly something that pops up on an every day basis. Do you want me to pretend I'm okay with all this shit? I'm not, okay, Nate? It's got me really fucked up, to tell you the truth." She flopped back onto the bed. "I just wish--god. I wish I could make it just go away."

He sighed. "C'mere." He reached out for her, ignoring her half hearted attempts to fend him off until she finally settled in against his chest. "It's okay to be upset, you know."

"Yeah." She rested her head against his chest, giving in to the protective embrace. With his arms around her waist, she felt some degree of security, and, she grudgingly admitted, if it made him feel better, she could put up with it, even if she didn't feel much like 'cuddling' at the moment. She closed her eyes, inwardly steeling herself for the demons sleep would bring.


	4. 

Mercury  
4/9 

_It wasn't one cut, or many, but a rawness over every inch of her skin that she couldn't escape, and a pain that sat in the pit of her stomach like a knife to the gut. She rewrapped her hands around the gun she held, finger poised on the trigger, waiting. There was a pattern to these things, and she'd learned to predict when it was her turn. Every muscle ached from bracing herself against the wall, the cold of the concrete floor stinging her legs, the soles of her feet. Her breathing seemed impossibly loud to her ears. Around her, the complex was silent--there'd been a slight reprieve after the suicide down the hall._

__

She started slightly as the door opened, heart racing wildly. Hidden by the bed, she knew he'd have to walk around it to get to her. The light flipped on overhead, and she held her breath, jaw set, waiting. Her finger moved on the trigger as he stepped closer.

_The shot veered off wildly, ricocheting off the wall, the gun plucked from her hand before she could squeeze off another round. With a crack, the back of her head connected with concrete, harsh words murmured in her ear, impossible to decipher through the haze of pain that clouded her thoughts. A second wave of agony swept over her as he thrust into her, all strength leaving her limbs. She would have fallen to the floor if not for the arm that pressed her shoulders firmly against the wall. The pain came again, and she bit down on her lip reflexively, so hard that blood flowed freely. She could taste it as she swallowed. There were no false platitudes this time, no nauseating, condescending whispers of affection. There was only anger, the burning, rhythmic pain, and guttural sounds of pleasure. She squeezed her eyes shut, locking away the tears that wanted to come, exerting the only form of control she had left.  
She felt his shuddering release and toppled, suddenly unsupported as he withdrew, unable to even lift her head to glare at him as he left her there, and turned out the lights, leaving her alone in the empty room._

She jolted awake, throwing herself free of the arms wrapped around her waist and managing to dash the dozen paces to the bathroom before her knees gave out on her, bent double over the toilet as she dry heaved, nothing in her stomach to come up. A noise in the doorway make her start, backing up against the tile wall. Nathan took a half step forward and she threw her arm out in front of her. "Don't touch me!" Her voice echoed off the tile walls, the scream ripping her throat raw. Nathan staggered backward a step and stood, staring at her like a deer in headlights. "Don't--" She rasped, and took a large, shuddering breath. "Oh god. Fuck..." She cursed, head resting against the lip of the toilet. "Oh god..." Tears dripped from her cheeks and the end of her nose, splashing onto the white tiled floor.

He stood silently watching, knowing nothing he could say would help. She sat up finally, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and getting unsteadily to her feet. She took a few shaky steps towards the door then froze, eyes locked on him. He stepped out of the way, letting her make her way back to the bed on her own, as much as it hurt not to be able to help her. Once she'd settled back down, covers all but obscuring her as she huddled in the bed, he pulled out the spare pillow and blanket from the bottom drawer of the dresser and took up watch in one of the chairs by the window. He somehow doubted either of them would be sleeping again, however.  
Somehow, mercifully, he'd been spared the brunt of her nightmare. As distasteful as it sounded, one of them needed to be able to think with a clear head, and Dom wasn't up to the task. The terror that had ripped through their link still had him feeling jittery, and he'd caught the gist of what had happened--his stomach twisted in a knot at the depravity of it, even as focus-less anger crackled at the back of his mind. There wasn't anything he could do about these things that had happened to her years before they'd even met, but it didn't make him feel any less enraged over it. He watched her toss restlessly, breathing soft but far from calm, the taint of her anguish leaking steadily across the already inflamed psilink like a slowly creeping chill. He tried to radiate as much calm and assurance as he could back, passively to keep from crossing the void between them. A mental touch would have been as violating as a physical one in her current state, and the last thing he wanted was for her to panic again. He'd managed to suppress any interest her earlier screams had produced, but his head ached and he didn't know if he could shove away those minds a second time. He sighed heavily, wondering, suddenly, where the relatively calm day had slithered off to. 

----

Some time near dawn, she finally fell asleep, and he let himself follow, falling into the dark confusion of his own dreams, a miasma of battles and faces, the past, present and future colliding and shattering in a violent, chaotic eruption. He awoke, uncomfortably cramped in the chair. It was after eight, and Domino was still asleep, thankfully. She _looked_ better, though the observation was little consolation as the previous nights events clung to him tenaciously. He ran a hand over his face and decided to go find someplace to get breakfast, leaving a note for her by the bed.

Dom was awake by the time he returned, bearing a cup of coffee and a styrofoam take-out container. He set them down on the dresser. "Morning." He watched her uneasily, unsure of what to do. 

She rubbed her eyes blearily and made a face. "God my head hurts," she winced. "Feels like the hangovers I used to get after a night of doing shots with Theo." She watched as he went into the bathroom and came back with aspirin and a glass of water. She reached out tentatively and took them. "Thanks..." The tension between them seemed to crackle almost audibly as she watched him retreat to a safe distance. "What's in the box?"

"Um... pancakes. I ate, but I didn't know if you..." He trailed off. "They're chocolate chip."

She smiled tiredly. "Not really hungry. I appreciate it, though." She paused. "Nate, come here. You don't have to--" She patted the spot on the bed next to her. "Come sit down." He complied, sitting next to her, though his posture remained somewhat rigid, uncertain. She reached out, resting her hand lightly on his own. "How much did you..."

He shook his head. "I didn't see anything," he replied. "I just caught the backlash."

"Thank god for small favors," she murmured. "You know what it was, though." She searched his eyes. "Right?"

"Yeah."

Dom nodded. "Okay." She fell silent for a long moment. "It was partially my fault," she said finally, eyes still locked on his own, trying to draw on him for the strength she needed to explain. It needed to be out in the open, as ill as the thought made her. "I had the gun--didn't really know how to use it in a practical sense, had never fired the thing. But it'd gone on too long... I couldn't just do nothing. I had to try and stop it. But I was scared, and I missed... the damned thing was too much for me to handle, and I never got a second chance. That was the first time anyone really hurt me--maliciously, I mean. Hurt me because he *could,* because I'd stopped being scared and started being angry instead. And hell, even at 14 I could hold my own... though god knows I wasn't much of a threat to a grown man. It was the principle of the thing." She took a ragged breath, hoping he couldn't see the memories that crowded at the back of her mind. "They were creative, I'll give them that," she sighed.  
"It doesn't usually--it hasn't hit me like that in ages, Nate. Not where I could see and hear and feel--" She swallowed reflexively, but held firmly to her control. "Like it was happening for the first time. Normally--hell, it's something that happened. I worked through it, the one thing I ever really *tried* to work through instead of pushing it away, because this is exactly the sort of thing I didn't want. But it was too vivid--there was no reasoning that could stop it. Can't tell yourself it's a dream when your body is telling you it's real." She tipped her head to the side. "I think the worst wasn't the act itself. It was the lies... the voice that would whisper in my ear, telling me I was beautiful, I was loved--as if that had anything to do with it. As if they gave a damn about anything besides what was between my legs." Her voice dripped with venom. "At least I got that much out of it. I got them to stop lying to me." She moved, turning so that she was straddled across his lap, hands resting lightly on his shoulders. 

He gave her a startled, concerned look. "Dom..."

"Nate," she said firmly, putting her hands on either side of his face, nose just inches from his own. "It's like falling off a bike. Either you get right back on, or you let the fear grow until it's uncontrollable. I'm not going to let it win."

"I know." He rested his forehead against hers, arms sliding around her waist. "But I don't think this is the way," he murmured.

"Maybe." She kissed him lightly. "But that doesn't mean you can't just hold me for awhile, does it?"

----

He cracked an eye open, watching as Domino dressed. He'd drifted off at some point--it was now early afternoon, and her absence had shaken him from his doze. "Going somewhere?" He sat up, stretching the kinks from his limbs.

"I still want to go look at the house," she replied. They'd decided yesterday to check the house Dom had lived in--the place where Gaines and his wife had been killed. He'd assumed those plans were off.

"You're sure you feel up to it?"

"I'm better than I was." She gave him a serious look. "I'm gonna be okay, Nate. Hopefully, that was a one-time deal. And if digging into my past is gonna drag all that shit to the surface again, I might as well get it over with." She pulled a tee-shirt over her head. "I want to see it."

----

Dust kicked up from the tires, sand and grit pinging on the underbody of the car. Domino carefully navigated her way down the half-obscured path, which had once served as a drive to the house that sat with a desolate air on the edge of the desert. Isolated, it stood outside the reaches of the city like the empty husk of some hulking beast. Shattered glass glinted in the Nevada sun, the empty windows staring like hollow eyes.   
As they swung closer, he could see the paint peeling from weathered clapboards, a further sign of its nearly two decades of neglect. He glanced over at his partner, whose eyes were fixed to the road she tried to follow, a grim sort of determination showing in her expression. The vehicle slowed and stopped yards from the empty building. Her eyes finally left the ground, roving over the devastated shell of a house. Wordlessly, she got out of the car, and he followed suit.

"This is it." Domino slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and peered up at the weathered building. "Hasn't been lived in in all this time."

"Not surprising," he murmured, standing a pace behind. "I can't imagine being the scene of an unsolved double murder was much of a selling point."

"Probably not," her strained tone betrayed her calm exterior. "I want to go inside."

He followed her up the parched front steps, old wood creaking beneath their feet. He could see the tension that lurked inside Dom; it showed in her posture and the way her muscles coiled beneath her skin, ever-ready to make an escape. 

The front door had been broken in long ago, the screen door leaning against the front of the house, hinges broken and screen torn out. The front hall was littered with debris and dirt blown in from the desert.  
To the left was what might have been an office at one point, though it was apparent the house was in use by someone now--local teens, perhaps, given the amount of garbage that was strewn about. Signs of the violence that had taken place there had been hastily erased, it was apparent that carpeting had been torn out and bullet holes had been patched over both there and in the hallway. He turned his attention from the house to his partner. "Dom?" She was standing in the room adjacent his across the front entrance, a living room, perhaps, looking slightly ashen as she took in her surroundings. There too, traces of violence lingered. "Anything?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't know what I was expecting..." She gave a broken sort of laugh. "Ghosts or monsters or... something." She stared out the shattered front window. "This is where it all fell apart." He crossed the short distance between the rooms, leaving footprints on the dust covered floor, and put a hand lightly on her shoulder. She closed her eyes. "Let's go home. There's nothing left here to find."

----

Domino had driven the first two hours back towards Reno, but had given in to the lack of sleep the previous night, leaving him to drive the rest of the way in silence. They arrived shortly before eleven that evening and he got them a room at the Hilton in town, calling to let X-Force know they were on their way back while Domino used the shower. She went to bed shortly there after, despite his half-hearted attempt at coaxing her into a late dinner, and he found himself trying futilely to concentrate on the book he'd picked up in an attempt to keep himself distracted. It wasn't working, and after re-reading the same page for the third time, he gave up, and got ready to turn in.  
He hadn't been able to ignore the sudden sense of urgency Dom had about her; she wanted to be off the road and back home as soon as possible, and he was beginning to think, regrettably, that the whole trip had been a very bad idea. Well, hindsight was 20/20, and neither of them had really had any way of knowing how upsetting the information they'd uncovered would be. He just hoped this wouldn't be another giant step backward for both of them, especially given the amount of effort Domino had made to get well again. 

He frowned at his own euphemisms. They'd danced around the subject, both with each other and with those around them, as if it were somehow impossible that she should fall victim to what was, quite honestly, a fairly common disorder. The impression he got from her was that she was rather loath to admit it, even to herself, as if she should somehow be immune by the circumstances of her life. That all the stress and trauma probably made her more vulnerable didn't seem to cross her mind, and his own complacency in letting her lie to herself made him disgusted. He knew she was trying, and after the rough initial few weeks she'd done amazingly well, but the fear was still there, justified or no, that she'd slip back down into the darkness that'd made him more afraid for her than any physical menace ever had. Beside him, Domino stirred in her sleep, arm sliding out to rest across his chest as her head came to rest on his shoulder, damp hair cool against his skin.

----

They left early, stopping to grab breakfast and coffee before they left town. Dom seemed distracted the entire time, poking at what she'd ordered to eat, eventually finishing off the side order of toast, but not much else. There was an intensity to her mood that he couldn't quite define, as if she were focusing more on something that lurked over the horizon than she was on the here and now. He hadn't been able to persuade her into letting him drive, either, and she'd turned up the radio once she hit I-80.   
When his attempts at conversation were met with distant, clipped responses, he gave up, and leaned back in his seat, watching the scenery, such as it was, to distract himself from thinking too much. They stopped about half way through the drive, though Dom wouldn't relinquish control of the car to him, which managed to piss him off just a little. It was one thing if she wanted to pretend he wasn't there, but it was quite another for her to make him sit on his ass with nothing to do while she did it. By the time they reached San Francisco, just after noon, his mood had gone considerably downhill.

He dumped their bags onto the bed in their room, struggling to keep a rein on his temper as Dom continued to give him the cold shoulder, completely ignoring his suggestion that they go find someplace to grab lunch. 

"You're perfectly capable of making it to a restaurant on your own," she snapped. "If you're hungry, go. I don't need to be dragged around like some fucking two-year-old, okay?"

"Not okay," he growled, "In case you hadn't noticed, four slices of toast and a half-dozen cups of coffee in two days isn't exactly a healthy diet."

"For fuck's sake, Nathan! Could we get through one day, just _one_ without you harping on how much I have or haven't eaten or slept?"

"Someone has to," he grated, "since you obviously can't be bothered to look after it yourself. I thought you _wanted_ to get better, here."

"I do!" She shouted back, "I just don't need you watching over me like a goddamned mother hen, approving my every move! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

"Yeah. Just like you did with Wisdom, right? Because that turned out _really_ well."

Her expression crumpled, face suddenly contorting in anger as she glared at him. Nathan winced inwardly, realizing how badly he'd just screwed up. "As if you had any fucking clue, you sanctimonious asshole." She seethed. "If you had _any_ idea..." Her anger boiled away any further retorts, and she stormed down the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out!" she yelled back at him, and left him to face down the questioning stares of X-Force.

----

He wasn't going to look for her, he told himself for the umpteenth time that evening. It didn't matter that she'd been gone for almost six hours without a word back to let him know she just needed time to cool off. Didn't matter that she'd clamped down on her end of the psilink tightly enough to reduce it to a mere trickle.  
He idly paced the length of the kitchen again and pondered starting a workout, just to get his mind off of it. Maybe she'd had a point, after all. He was starting to feel more than a little ridiculous. He'd give her another hour or so before he went to find her. It was probably the best option--the longer he waited the less likely she was to try and re-arrange his limbs. With a frustrated sigh, he went back to pacing.

----

She should have gone to a gay bar. That was all Domino could think as she took a swallow of her drink, pretending to listen politely as the guy next to her at the bar tried entirely too hard to get into her pants. Well, she thought wryly, it *had* been awhile since she'd had someone hit on her--Nathan's presence tended to discourage that sort of thing--and it was reassuring to know she still had what it took. She smiled faintly as he ordered her another drink. He wasn't hard on the eyes, either, even if his personality was deplorable. She'd seen worse--hell, she'd fucked worse, she thought, and laughed despite herself. Her companion seemed to take it as a sign that she was beginning to warm up to him and began to lay on the pathetic attempt at charm even thicker. Definitely should have gone to a gay bar. At least having women hit on her would have provided more entertainment.   
She winced as her vision swam a little, cursing under her breath. She hadn't even had that much to drink. 'Must be getting soft,' she thought dryly, and polished off what was left in her glass. Well, she wasn't about to let a little lightheadedness stop her--as long as she didn't get it into her head to actually leave with the loser. She was pissed at Nate, but not that pissed. She idly wondered when she'd gotten so damned monogamous. Her companion was watching her now, pretensions gone for the moment.

"Hey...you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved him off. Christ, was _everyone_ going to ask her how she was? She ordered another drink and gave him her best winning smile, wishing she could remember his name.

----

Maybe the last few drinks hadn't been a brilliant idea, Domino thought wryly as she bypassed the security and let herself into the warehouse. It was definitely hitting her harder than normal, she thought as she crossed the garage. All she wanted to do now was sleep for the next twelve hours or so. It'd be at least that long before she was ready to deal with Nathan. He was going to be pissed as hell, there was no doubt about that. She opened the door to the kitchen and cursed under her breath.

"Dom." Nathan was sitting at the table, looking *far* too calm for her peace of mind.

"Fuck. Nate...don't even--" She wavered on her feet slightly, and caught herself on the doorframe. 'Smooth move. Passing out will really show him you're fine, moron,' she berated herself, closing her eyes and trying to stop the sudden pounding in her head. As if in protest, her stomach decided to join in as well. She swallowed hard and opened her eyes again. Nate was still watching her intently. He hadn't moved, and his expression hadn't changed.

"Where were you?"

"Oh... you know, wandered around a bit, went to a movie ..." She gestured expansively. It wasn't a _total_ lie.

"Oh?" One eyebrow arched slightly. "And when did it become common practice to serve alcohol at movie theaters?"

She groaned. "Okay, so I hit the bar after the movie for a drink. So what? It's not a big deal," she muttered.

"A drink? That's why you look about ready to do a face-plant in the middle of the kitchen floor, right?" He growled, his calm exterior finally cracking. That was more like it, Dom thought. It was always more worrisome when he acted perfectly calm. Now at least she could yell back at him without feeling like an idiot. "How much did you have to drink?"

"I don't know!" she shouted back at him, wincing at the slightly plaintive tone in her voice. "I wasn't keeping track. Some guy at the bar was buying, anyway. Look, can I just go to bed?" She heard him curse under his breath in Askani. "What?"

He glared at her. "I don't suppose it even crossed your mind that you're really not supposed to be drinking at _all_ with the medication you're taking?" He snapped, and tried to keep himself from dwelling on how wretched she looked, half-propped up in the doorway.

She blinked at him for a moment. It hadn't, actually. Well...it had, but only as a niggling feeling that she really oughtn't be doing what she'd decided to do, and that had just made her more determined. She muttered a reply, not meeting his eyes. 

"Bright Lady," he breathed. "Can you get any _more_ irresponsible?"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Nathan!" She yelled, ignoring the pain that spiked through her head. "I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions! If I make bad ones, so be it. That doesn't give you the right to run my life for me!"

"Do you _have_ to shout?" He ran a hand over his face. "Dom, I'm not trying to take over your life."

"So stop being so fucking over protective!"

"Can you _blame_ me?" He barked. "You've yet to give me a decent reason _not_ to worry. Do you think I _enjoy_ this? But how can I promise you I'll back off when you pull stunts like this?"

"You don't have to promise, just *do* it, okay?" She retorted, and took a few feeble steps towards the stairs before Nathan was suddenly there, catching her under the arms and holding her up. "Fuck, I feel like shit."

"Big surprise," he murmured. "Do you always have to go so flonqing overboard?"

"Hey, if it's worth doing..." She trailed off as vision blurred. Her knees felt like rubber. "So maybe this wasn't the greatest idea I ever had. It's _your_ fault, after all."

"The decision to go get drunk off your ass was your own, and you know it." He grated, and scooped her up so he could carry her up the stairs. "And as a way of proving your self-sufficiency, it really was an idiotic idea." He set her down once they reached the bedroom.

"You could at least show a little sympathy, you bastard." She sat down heavily on the bed and began fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. After a moment she gave up in frustration and yanked it over her head impatiently. "Instead of lecturing me--"

"No, the lecture isn't until tomorrow," he replied and helped her finish getting undressed, then tucked her into bed. "Assuming you haven't managed to permanently harm yourself that is," he frowned.

She yanked the covers tightly around her shoulders and closed her eyes tightly, trying to beat down the growing nausea. Getting sick would just amuse him to no end, she thought bitterly. She moaned softly, and felt Nathan's hand gently smoothing out her hair. The bed creaked quietly as he lay down next to her.

"Think you're going to be okay?" His voice was all concern now.

"Yeah," she breathed. "I--" She sat up suddenly, and groaned as he head swam. "Maybe not..." she made a beeline for the bathroom and Nate found himself suppressing a chuckle despite himself. 

"Maybe I should take you down to the infirmary."

"I think... I'll be okay." She rocked back on her heels. "Yeah." She got to her feet and let him help her back to bed without protest. "Christ, next time I get a brilliant idea like this, feel free to kick my ass, okay?"

"Okay."


	5. 

Mercury  
5/9 

"Feel up to leaving, or do you need more time?"

Domino cracked an eye open and looked at him. He was really being far too considerate, she reflected. She sat up slowly, gauging her body's reaction to being vertical. Her head was pounding, but that was the worst of it. "I'll be okay. Lemme get dressed." She hauled herself out of bed and gingerly made her way over to her bag, pulling out a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. "You'll be okay driving?" 

"Only nine hours, on a paved interstate? No problem," he replied with a chuckle. "You're sure you're up to it?"

"I've been worse," she replied. "I'll live. I can sleep in the car." She helped him finish packing their belongings. "No lecture?" She ventured finally.

"Just don't do it again," he replied as they headed out to the car.

"Don't think you have to worry about that," she muttered as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself in. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that. I was in a bad mood."

"So first you take it out on me, then on yourself. That's hardly productive behavior."

"Don't you think I _know_ that?" She grumbled, watching out the window as he pulled away from the warehouse.

"I just don't think you're taking this very seriously."

"Oh, Christ, Nate. Of *course* I'm taking it seriously." She glanced over at him. "How can you even accuse me of that? So I'm not yelling it from the fucking rooftops. That doesn't mean I don't care." She leaned back in her seat. "Damnit. I never should have decided to do this..."

"You wanted answers."

"And all we've managed to do is argue the entire time." she reached out and turned up the radio. "I'm not mad at you."

"I know."

She closed her eyes. "We'll get through this, right?"

"Been through worse."

"Sure."

----

"You going to eat that?"

"Yes, I'm going to eat it," she swatted at him. "We're not in a hurry are we?"

"No," he replied, and settled back in his seat. "Feeling better?"

"A six hour nap'll do that, yeah." She poked at her dinner. "Yuck. They charcoaled this..."

"Send it back."

"Not worth the hassle." She snagged some french-fries from the plate. "I'll live."

"Decided what you want to do once we get back?"

"About what we found?" She pursed her lips. "I think... that we should just leave it. For now. Give myself some time to de-stress." She brushed her hair out of her face. "Guess I'm a little worried about what this is doing to me," she said. "Damnit, I hate feeling like this! It's so fucking frustrating."

"Hey," he reached out and covered her hand with his own. "Take as much time as you need. You don't have to push yourself."

She sighed. "I know, I know. It's just that it's been a couple months now, and I keep waiting for it to get better."

"It is, Dom. Maybe you have trouble seeing it, but I can tell. You're doing fine."

"Um...thanks." She said finally.

An amused look crept across his face. "Every day I have you is thanks enough, Dom." He teased.

She couldn't help but laugh, and threw her napkin at him.

----

It was well into the evening by the time Cable found himself pulling up in the now-familiar gravel drive, and parking the SUV in the garage along side Domino's battered jeep. Dom stretched sleepily and unfastened her seatbelt. He reached over and put a hand on her arm. "I'll take care of the bags. Why don't you just go on to bed."

Dom nodded mutely, not bothering to protest. She knew it was pretty pointless to argue--the sleep she'd caught on the drive had helped some, but she was still felling less than ideal. She took the keys and let herself into the house while Nate started gathering their bags out of the car. She stood in the darkened kitchen for a long moment, then made her way tiredly down the hall and flipped on the bedroom lights. She could hear Nate coming into the house as she opened the dresser and pulled out pajamas. He must have decided to leave the unpacking for the morning, because he entered the room empty handed. She pulled the tank top over her head and glanced over at him. "Nice to get back," she said finally.

"Yeah," he replied, and sat next to her on the bed. "How're you feeling?"

It wasn't really a question, she knew damned well that he could probably tell just from the psilink, but she gave him a slight smile and rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, okay. Probably better than I have any right to, given how incredibly stupid that was of me. I'll be right as rain by morning, really."

He slid an arm around her waist. "Good." He paused, then leaned over and kissed her lightly.

"I didn't mean to worry you," she said. "Wasn't thinking."

He chuckled. "Yes you were. You were just thinking of the best way possible to piss me off."

"Probably," she replied wryly, and got up to turn back the covers on the bed. 

----

A distraction. That's what Domino had called her decision to launch a full-scale remodeling effort on the house late last spring. Truthfully, it had needed work, but not on nearly the scale that Dom had decided to undertake, hauling him along as her unwitting co-participant.  
Admittedly, they _had_ come a long way in making the place habitable over the summer. Dom had lost herself in redecorating, dragging him around from store to store, more because it was better for her than sleeping the day away than any real interest in making the place 'homey.' She'd tackled the bedroom first, managing to get all of the bedding and the curtains in one blitz shopping session. Her choices were surprisingly low-key, in contrast to the sort of clothes she bought, anyway, and the room had ended up in mostly soft, warm grey tones that set off the blue in the wall color, and broken only by the heather colored sheets and pillows that he'd relented to, and was glad of afterwards. It was, he thought, a pretty good testament to her mood of late, not the false one she continued to display for everyone else but him, but a true reflection of the battle she was waging with herself, everything tinged with a quiet sort of pain she couldn't quite disguise. As a result, the whole room had a calm, muted feel, faintly reminiscent of the ocean.

From there she'd attacked the rest of the house--he'd helped her decide on the furniture for the living room, equally mellow in its colors, though the theme ran in tans and browns here, drawing off the woodwork around the fireplace and the hard-wood floors. Piece by piece, he'd watched it go from simply another small house to someplace that actually looked cared for, something that'd never really happened with the other places they'd lived in on and off over the years. It gave him the strangest feeling of permanency, which could have been the reason Dom had decided to do it in the first place.   
The den she'd left alone, for the most part, since it was the default room for the television, stereo, and the small library they'd managed to accumulate between them. For people who'd spent their lives as soldiers, they'd certainly managed to acquire a fair number of books. It was also the only carpeted room in the house, which only enhanced the general feeling of warmth and coziness the rest of the rooms lacked, leaving it as a refuge of sorts. The kitchen wasn't done--there was painting to be done there as well, but they took breaks between projects, so that they weren't living in a constant construction zone. But she'd seen fit to buy all new plates, glasses and silverware, to replace the mismatched ones they'd originally brought with them. 

Most recently, he'd found her peering into the spare bedroom thoughtfully, commenting idly that they should have put the communications equipment in the basement, instead. At his 'Why?' she'd merely shrugged to say she didn't know, but had somehow talked him into moving it all out long enough for her to paint the walls a sage green. As a result, the room looked even more bizarre, the tall locked cabinets that held their weapons and the high-tech communications array looking utterly out of place, in conflict with the room's original purpose.  
He had half a mind to fix up a place for it in the basement now, if only to relive the startling dichotomy of the room, even if they had no real need for the extra bedroom. The thought caused him to chuckle. It was probably what she'd intended to do, knowing it would bug him until it was changed. Maybe she had a point--a room full of guns and space-aged technology really did detract from the amazing sense of normalcy she'd managed to achieve. In the basement, it wouldn't be nearly as intrusive.

Since the move, he'd found himself falling more and more into the regular rhythm of every day life, much to his own amusement. There were power tools on a shelf in the garage, a patio set out back, and even a gas grill Dom had gotten him as 'a birthday present' even though she'd known it was nowhere near his birthday.   
At the moment, he was doing his damnedest to undo all that hard work.

"Y'know, not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, Nate? But remind me to stop you the next time you decided to try and cook me dinner. It's really pretty counter-productive to set the house on fire..."

"It was just a dish towel," he grumbled, and looked around with disgust at the disaster area the kitchen had become. "This is ridiculous."

She chuckled. "It is, rather. Now you see why _I_ avoid cooking at all costs." 

He sighed. "Well, I guess we're eating out tonight. Why don't you go change. I'll call around for reservations..." 

"You're going to make me dress up, aren't you?"

"Well, since _my_ attempt at a decent meal failed..."

She rolled her eyes. "Bastard."

He grinned.

----

"I should really kick your ass for this," Domino commented casually, sipping her iced tea.

"And why is that?"

"Nate. You dragged me out to an expensive restaurant on a half hour's notice. I look like shit."

"No you don't. You look great."

She rolled her eyes. "No, I do not," she sighed. "Don't lie."

"I'm not--" He ran a hand back through his hair. "You look fine."

"That's better."

He sighed. "There's a difference?"

"Yeah, there is." She fell silent, playing with the edge of her napkin.

"Look, I just thought--" He lowered his voice and leaned across the table. "I just thought that since we been living off take-out for the last two weeks, it'd be good to go out someplace nice. I won't do it again."

"Don't... Nate, let's just not fight over it, okay? It's stupid, and I'm tired of arguing all the time."

"Fine."

"Fine." She looked over her menu, a sullen expression stamped across her face. 

"Look, if you're pissed at me for something, just spit it out."

"I'm not," she replied, then paused to give the server her order.

"The last time you acted like this, Dom," he replied, once their orders were placed and they were alone again, "you ended up walking out on me. Excuse me if I'd rather not repeat the experience."

"I'm not going to do that, Nathan," she breathed. "There are still days I'm sure that was the worst mistake I ever made."

"Is that a promise?" He asked, a bit more harshly than he'd intended.

"It's..." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Am I ever going to let myself get that frustrated with you again? No, I'm not. Things aren't even the same now, are they? You're not excluding me from some private war anymore." She took another sip of her drink. "I don't want to relive those three years any more than you do, Nathan."

"Good to know." They sat in silence as they waited on dinner. Nathan watched as Domino ripped open a sugar packet and dumped the contents into her glass. "How much sugar are you going to put in there?"

"Hoping to get a buzz off it," she deadpanned. "What? I'd _like_ a fucking huge margarita right about now, but obviously that's not going to happen." She paused. "Nathan, if you don't stop brooding, I'm going to light my napkin on fire..."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't tempt me, Nate. I'm the crazy person here, remember?" 

"You're not crazy."

"The hell," she snorted. "Seriously, though. Just...don't do the damned Summers angst thing, okay?"

"Summers...angst..."

"You know what I mean. You do it, your father does it, Alex does it... I've never met your grandfather, but I'd bet good money that Corsair does it too."

He sighed. "Fine, I won't brood if you stop whining about not being able to drink."

"You've got a deal."

----

"Look, I'm sorry about tonight. I know I wasn't really--"

"It's okay," he replied. "Though I think you scared the staff."

"Well, good. They looked like they needed a little excitement in their lives."

"You certainly gave them that."

She laughed, pushing past him into the bedroom. "Maybe next time, you'll give me more warning when you decide to drag me out," she replied as she undressed. "Though... it was fun seeing the looks on their faces," she said wistfully. "...Nate?"

"...yeah?"

"You gonna come to bed, or are you going to stand there all night?" She walked over and flipped back the covers on the bed. "You are so pathetic."

"Would you rather I *not* notice when you're standing there naked?" He unknotted his tie and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

"Well, being able to carry on a conversation would be good," she replied, climbing into bed.

"You distract me."

"I suppose I should be glad of that," she replied, leaning back on the pillows. "If I can't charm you with my winning personality, at least I can strip to keep you captivated," she smirked.

"You have my undivided attention," he replied as he slid into bed next to her.

"Good." She turned on her side, fingers brushing along his jaw. "I really am sorry about dinner. I know you meant well."

"Don't worry about it," he replied, reaching for her.

She settled in against his side. "Yeah." She closed her eyes, willing herself to just relax. "I dunno... it's stupid but I feel like I'm trying too hard here or something. I just need to relax and stop getting so pissed off at everything."

"Well, it hasn't exactly been a stress-free few weeks," he replied. "You're entitled."

She laughed. "No, I'm not. Just because my life's a little fucked up doesn't mean I'm exempt from acting like a decent human being." She turned so they were face to face. "I've been treating you like crap, and you just sit here and take it. That's not what I want Nate. I don't want you to coddle me because you've suddenly got it in your head that I'm 'fragile,' okay? You're not going to hurt me, and we're not going to let some stupid fucking chemical imbalance rule over our lives. You understand me? No more of this shit we've both been pulling."

He slid his hands down her back, pulling her a little closer. "Okay. No more kid gloves."

----

It had gotten cold during the night, he could feel it in the stiff ache in his joints--the ones unaffected by the T-O anyway. Cruel irony, that. The part of him that was flesh and blood throbbed with a phantom trace of the agony that'd wracked him after Apocalypse's defeat, now two years distant.   
Two years. Had it really been that long since he'd lain in the infirmary, the soft pressure of Jean's mind on his as she whispered comfort and held the virus at bay? Two years since he'd stood at death's door and found himself unable to take that step. His arms tightened instinctively around the form spooned against him. Domino murmured something indecipherable and pulled the down comforter closer around them.

"Hrmp...Nate, you okay?" She asked sleepily, peering over her shoulder at him, forehead creased in concern. Her worry glowed softly across the link.

"I'll be fine," he replied, and clamped down on the amount of discomfort he was leaking over to her. His hands slid along her skin, warm from sleep and the cocoon of blankets. 

She rested her head against his chest. "Maybe you should talk to McCoy. If it's starting to bother you..."

"Maybe," he agreed. "It's usually not that bad."

She didn't reply, sighing softly as his hand brushed along her hip, the length of her thigh. He kissed the crown of her head. "I should have been there," she said finally, voice rising out of some mental deliberation. "At Akkaba. If I had been..."

"I don't know," he replied. "Maybe it was meant to be that way. You--" He stopped, then continued in a quieter voice. "No one else was keeping me here. Even while Jean was trying to save my life, she was letting me know it was okay, that I could let go if--" There was a sudden was of anguish from Dom's end of the link, and he put his arms around her again, hands resting against her bare stomach. "I couldn't go knowing you were mad at me," he said, a tinge of humor coloring his voice. "It worked out okay in the end."

----

She left him eventually, saying she had errands to run, seeing through his protests that he was fine. Besides, she'd pointed out ruthlessly, he did his share of worrying, and turnabout was fair play. The fact that he hadn't _quite_ managed to totally dampen the pain leaking down the psilink hadn't helped his case either. She just hoped he'd had the common sense to go back to sleep like she'd told him to.  
She wasn't sure why it was hitting her today. Maybe it was just the nature of the conversation they'd had that morning--she knew how close to dying he'd come, of course, she'd done a bit of snooping behind his back, and she'd seen signs before. But it was hard to think of him as anything but strong. She felt, quite absurdly, like crying. She walked around the perimeter of the yard, instead, idly picking up fallen branches from the lawn and pitching them off into the trees. Leaves were strewn across the lawn, crunching under foot and rattling in the breeze. She shivered, eyes casting furtively up at the grey, cloud-veiled sky as she tried to shake off the sudden, melancholy mood. 

----

He'd slept after Dom had gone, and woke feeling marginally better, though he'd still winced when he got up. It wasn't so bad, however, and most of the lingering ache has been chased off by a hot shower. It was probably all of the driving that had done it--sitting in one position for long periods was always worse than when he could keep moving. He toweled his hair dry, then pulled on a sweater and jeans and went to find Dom.

She was in the back yard, crouched down to pet the large male tabby that had recently made their garage and surrounding property his hunting ground. Cable eyed the creature balefully as he approached across the lawn. Dom gave the cat one last scratch behind the ears and stood. Nathan could have sworn it gave him a smug look as it twined itself lazily around Dom's ankles before trotting off towards the trees.

"You're not feeding that thing, I hope," he said, watching the cat vanish.

"Of course not. If I did that, he'd get lazy and then we'd have mice in the house." She gave him an amused grin. "Jealous?"

"Of a cat?" He snorted. "Aside from the fact that you never use that baby-voice on me..."

"Oh, _I'm_ sorry," she replied. "You're a good little Nate, yes you are. Killed the big bad ancient evil." She patted his head, then broke into helpless laughter at the indignant look on his face.

"Oath..." He shook his head. "You're incorrigible."

"Don't pretend you don't love it." She grinned, and he caught a flash of the old humor in her eyes. 

He scooped her up, cradling her weight easily against him. "You're cold," he commented, feeling her shiver through the bulk of her pale lavender sweater.

"It's cold out," she replied with a shrug, looking up at him.

"Should have put a coat on."

"You're fussing."

"So?"

"So quit worrying so damned much," she murmured.

"You first."

"Touché. Put me down? My legs are getting cold." She wiggled her feet for emphasis, bare ankles exposed below the hem of her jeans, sock-less feet stuffed into battered running shoes, skin bone white in the chill air. He didn't let her down, instead carrying her around to the front door, swinging it open with his telekinesis as he climbed the front steps. 

"Carrying me over the threshold?" She joked as he set her down just inside the door.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Never mind. Old wedding tradition." She walked over to the stove and grabbed the kettle.

"Ah."

"What?" She arched an eyebrow at him, filling the kettle and putting it back on the stove. She grabbed a can out of the cupboard.

"Nothing." He sat down at the table.

"O-kay..." Her expression was skeptical. "Makin' hot chocolate. You want some?" She shook the container in her hand.

"No thanks."

"You sure? I've got mini-marshmallows." He shot her a reproachful look, and she snickered. "You're really no fun."

"I'm lots of fun. I just don't like marshmallows."

"Oh, c'mon. They're almost pure sugar. No nutritional value whatsoever. What's not to love?" She sat down across from him while she waited for the water to boil, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm them. He reached over and took her hands in his own, warming and massaging away the little aches she hadn't even noticed until that moment. "My human heater." She gave him a lop-sided smile. "You're too good to me."

"Not possible," he replied, eyes locking on hers, expression suddenly serious.

"Nate..." She trailed off and took the opportunity to pull away as the kettle whistled, the momentary solemnity broken.

"We should really start raking up the yard," she said, returning with her drink.

"Probably."

Something about his tone didn't sit right with her. She sighed inwardly. Sometimes he could be so exasperating, his mood impossible to tell, even with the convenient direct link she had to his brain. "Look, just tell me what's the matter, okay?"

"I don't--" he looked down at the tabletop. "Not sure." He glanced up. "I'm sorry."

She stared at him, then blinked, and stared a little more. "You...apologized." She blinked again. "Who are you, and what have you done with Nate?"

"Dom..."

"I need to go check the basement for pods now..."

"Please?"

"Okay, okay." She paused. "Apology accepted... even if I'm not sure what exactly you're apologizing *for.* If you're gonna take up the practice, you could have at least made it something good."

He reached out and took her hand again, running his thumb across her scarred knuckles. "I'm sorry for all the time we wasted."

"That's...um...that's a good one, yeah," she replied. "I'm sorry for that too." Her mind slid back over the years, reliving the morning she'd woken with him asleep beside her and recognized the tugging in her chest for what it was, remembering the terror at admitting she loved him.  
They'd made the admission to each other with the world dying around them, and were rendered helpless when it was restored, realizing they could never go back to 'friends' again, but trying to carry on as the always had despite the knowledge, until it tore them apart.

"I don't want to waste any more."

"Nate..." She felt herself slipping dangerously close to tears. 'Damn him,' she thought wildly, and brushed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Hey." He slipped his hand into hers. "You okay?"

"I..." She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm being an idiot."

He tugged her hand gently. "C'mere," he said, and pulled her down into his lap when she'd come around to his side of the table. "There's nothing to apologize for." He reached out and brushed her long hair away from her face. "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I guess what you said this morning shook me up a bit." She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Well, I meant it. You were worth living for, Dom. This was worth it."

"Sometimes you're just entirely too understanding for your own good," she murmured, and he chuckled.


	6. 

Mercury  
6/9 

Domino paused from her work, leaning the rake against the trunk of a nearby tree and unzipping her jacket. It'd been cold when they'd started cleaning up the yard, but a combination of a break in the clouds and the activity had made the bulk of the jacket too warm. She slung it over a low-hanging branch and picked up her rake again. She'd gotten most of the side yard done, leaving only patches around the bushes by the house and the edge of the woods to be finished up. Nathan was working on the back--she could hear the swishing of his rake, and decided to go see how far he'd gotten.

"What've you been doing, piling them up by hand?" She asked as she rounded the back of the house. Only about half of the yard had been cleared. 

"It's that damned cat," Nathan said, scowling absently. "Every time I start up again, he launches himself at the rake. *You* try working with a 13 pound animal affixed to the end of your rake." Dom stared at him for a moment in utter disbelief, then broke out laughing. "Well, I'm glad you're amused," he said sardonically as he watched her bent practically double with laughter.

She straightened up and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You must challenge his dominance or something," she joked. "I think I'd pay good money to see that... You, done in by a cat."

"Ha ha," he replied. "Don't tell me you're done already?"

"Almost," she replied smugly. "I haven't been duking it out with a feline." She paused, suddenly wary of the look Nate was fixing her with. "Nathan, I don't know what you're thinking but don't you eve--*oof.*" She crashed to the ground rather gracelessly as Nathan tackled her, landing in a pile of leaves. She shoved tangled hair out of her face and glared up at him. "Cute." He grinned down at her. "You do realize you are now in very big trouble."

"Oh, probably," he smirked, making no motion to get up. He reached out and plucked a leaf from her hair.

"Comfortable?"

"Actually," he grinned again and kissed her. "Quite."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, is that so?" Before he could react, she'd managed to shove a good fistful of leaves up the back of his sweater, dumping him over on his back in the same, fluid motion. "Take that," she cackled, and took off running before he could grab her. He watched her take off, and pushed himself to his feet, shaking the crushed leaves from his sweater as best he could before going after her.

  
  


In the end, the yard work was forgotten in the impromptu game of cat and mouse Dom lead him on, managing to always stay just out of his reach. He'd finally let her 'tag' him in the small clearing behind the garage. 

"Well," she said, a bit breathlessly, "that was fun."

He propped himself on his elbows, looking up at her as she sat straddled across his waist, hair a tousled mane around her shoulders. "Yep," he replied simply, and found himself on his back again as she leaned in and kissed him roughly. He closed his eyes, a groan escaping as she shifted her weight. "Inside?" His voice sounded uneven to his own ears. "Dom--" He inhaled sharply as she moved again, the pressure of her body against his own a delicious sort of agony.

"Think we'll make it that far?" Her voice sounded as ragged as his own had.

He gave a strained laugh. "Garage?" She leaned in and kissed him again, and a surge of desire swept through him at the contact.

"Good idea," she replied huskily, and suddenly her weight was gone as she stood and tugged him impatiently to his feet. She latched onto him again as soon as he was vertical, and they made their fumbling way to the side door of the garage, and then inside. 

Nathan yanked on the rear door to the SUV and cursed under his breath. "Locked..."

"Oh, the hell with that," Domino replied, already fumbling with his jeans.

He gave up on the car door and turned his attention back to his partner, leaning in for a bruising kiss as his hands slid beneath her sweater, pushing her bra out of the way to caress her breasts. She squirmed, sliding her jeans down her hips and pulled him closer insistently, arms wrapping around his neck. He pulled her up, pinning her back against the side of the car to help keep balance. His breath caught, the sheer amount of pleasure and desire flooding across the psilink almost blinding in its intensity.   
He heard her cry out as they met, that intense, beautiful light expanding seemingly without limit as he lost track of himself as someone separate and apart from her, tangled hopelessly and without the desire to be free. He could still vaguely feel her mouth on his own, he hands grasping desperately at him, feel her body's reactions to his own as tension built to an almost unbearable level until the psilink exploded in brilliance, like a brand at the back of his mind, and he fell forward, gasping for air, body trembling ever so slightly as he leaned his forearms against the door of the car for support.

Dom's arms slipped from around his neck, head falling forward to rest against Nathan's chest. Her breathing began to slow as her heart rate returned to a reasonable rate. "Well--" she said, a bit shakily. "I guess we can cross the garage off the list." She took another deep breath. "Wanna go again?"

"Can we go inside?" He joked, straightening up finally.

"Sure. I'll even let you take your clothes off this time."

----

"Ha, easy for them to say." Domino rolled her eyes at the travel show currently on the television. "They're not getting shot at." She picked up the remote and started flipping through channels.

"I suppose that does detract from the scenery," he replied. Dom gave up on channel surfing, letting the TV rattle on where it'd stopped. She stretched, stifling a yawn, and settled in against Nate comfortably. "Tired?" He asked, slipping one arm loosely around her waist.

"Me? Nah. I could go five rounds with the Juggernaut," she joked. "We never did finish the yard work."

"We were distracted," he replied. "It can wait. You don't have any other pressing engagements, do you?"

"Nope," she yawned again. "You're stuck with me."

"Good." He wrapped his hand around her own, and chuckled quietly to himself as he realized she'd fallen asleep. After a few moments, he picked her up gently and carried her to bed.

----

_"Shhh...don't..." A hand closed over her mouth and her eyes went wide. She choked on the sob that welled up inside her, thrashing uselessly until her chest was heaving, heart pounding frantically. She flinched as his free hand slid beneath her clothes, stomach knotting in grim anticipation. His hand moved from her mouth as he yanked her shirt upwards, leaving her arms trapped as he tugged down on her waistband.   
He murmured under his breath as his hands ran over her body, down her torso and brushing her thigh. He shifted on top of her, fumbling with his jeans until he'd freed himself, slamming into her, hips crashing against her with such force she bit her tongue. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sudden, forceful violation and she tried to scream but no sound came out._

----

She bent double in bed, tears sliding down her cheeks without a sound. Nathan sat up beside her, quiet for a long moment before he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Dom..."

"I just want it to go away," she hissed. "I dealt with it! It was all over." She fell against him, trembling more with rage than fear. "The son of a bitch is dead. It should be..."

"Did you kill him?" He smoothed back her hair.

"No, I--Logan did," she replied. "After I told him... he went back--fuck," she muttered. "I'm not going to let all these damned ghosts rule my life. not that perverted asshole, not this guy who's claiming to be my father... Goddamnit, they can't have me!"

"Good," he replied gruffly, and wrapped his arms around her tightly. The last traces of her fear and uncertainty seemed burned away by the flame of her anger. 

"We need to end this stupid game. I don't care what the truth is... I just refuse to do this anymore."

----

She was wearing one of his old shirts, worn cotton clinging to her frame. She looked better than she had in months--relaxed, stress lines gone from her face, but beneath well-toned muscle bone still jutted too sharply, and he chastised himself for looking at her like something that would break in his hands. She was stronger than that, and she'd proven it.  
Her nightmares still haunted him. He'd been spared the content but not the terror, and the magnitude of it staggered him. He balled up all of his focus-less anger and released it, knowing that holding onto it was pointless. It wouldn't do either of them any good now. She stirred, stretching cat-like as she sat up.

"Morning," she said, looking over at him.

"Morning." He reached out and pulled her toward him. Dom leaned over, slipping her hand into his own, her hair sliding over her shoulders to frame her face. Nate's free hand slid under the hem of her shirt, resting along her hip. 

"You're horrible, you know that?" She said with a grin, leaning down to kiss him briefly.

"Making up for lost time," he replied with a playful grin, and let his hand slip lower.

"Ha! I think we've _more_ than compensated. Face it, you're just a lecherous old man."

"Can you _blame_ me?" He tugged her down gently. "I can't help it, waking up next to you every morning." He ran his hands along her back, and she shivered slightly at the contact.

"I'm not complaining." Her hands glided along his shoulders. She barely registered the difference between flesh and blood and the T-O anymore, both as familiar as the sunlight glowing weakly beyond the curtains.  
They were becoming old hands at this, she mused inwardly as he kissed the hollow of her neck, trailing along the length of her collarbone. Fingers brushed along the inside of her thigh, and she drew her breath in sharply. She sat up, tugging off the shirt and tossing her hair back over her shoulder as she leaned forward, grinning at him. Nathan's arms slid around her waist, pulling her down gently to kiss her, his hands sliding over her skin causing her to shiver.

In an instant, he reversed their positions, hands on her shoulders as he leaned in to kiss her again, but stopped cold as he felt her go rigid beneath him.

The panic slammed into her like a tidal wave, unexpected and irrational, but no less unstoppable. She froze, eyes wide, unable to do anything but stare up at him, shame twisting her stomach in a knot. There was no pretending it hadn't happened--Nate was already pulling away from her, falling back on the pillows. With a strangled curse, she curled up on her side, back to him, knees drawn up to her chest. She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Dom?" Nathan's voice was low, all concern as she heard him sit up, leaning over to look at her. 

"Sorry." Her heart rate was slowing to a normal rate, and she felt suddenly cold and jittery.

"Not your fault," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have done that."

"You didn't know," she replied, hugging her knees tightly. She couldn't quite stop the tremor that ran through her. 

Nathan was silent for a long moment. "Come here?" He asked finally, undemanding.

She took another deep breath and uncurled, turning to face him as he pulled her into his arms. He rubbed her back and shoulders soothingly as she buried her face against his shoulder. 

  
  


Some time later, she slipped free of his grip, and he watched as she pulled on an old sweatshirt and faded, too-big jeans, leaving the room without a word. When he exited the room a short time later, the door to the spare bedroom was closed. and he could hear the soft murmur of Domino talking on the telephone. He went into the kitchen and started up the coffee maker.  
There was a light rain falling outside as he sat at the kitchen table, trying to convince himself the morning's incident was nothing more than a normal progression of events, given all that had been happening of late, and that it wasn't the crushing setback it felt like. He sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily, trying not to let himself be hurt by her reaction. He sipped his coffee, hoping that it would be an isolated incident; he wasn't sure how much more they could withstand. A door opened in the hall, and he broke free of his meditations as Domino walked into the room. "Hey."

"Hi," she replied distractedly, going to the counter and pouring herself a cup of coffee before sitting down across from him. Her expression was carefully neutral, but he could see tired apprehension in her eyes. "Nate..." She started, but trailed off, uncertain what to say.

"You don't have to discus it. I understand," he replied, carefully moderating his tone. He wasn't going to pry, but being overly sympathetic was just bound to irritate her. Dom hated being patronized.

"I don't want this to screw things up, alright? I'm not afraid of you, and I never have been. I just should have given myself a bit more time--or something. I dunno. But now you're bound to be understandably uneasy, and the *last* thing I want is for you to get all skittish on me." She reached out and took his hand in her own, lacing her fingers through his as she squeezed it tightly. "Okay?"

"If you're sure," he replied, trying to keep lingering skepticism from his voice.

She gave him a wry smile. "We've been doing this for the better part of two decades, Nate. I'll be damned if something as stupid as a nightmare changes _that._"

He gave her a slight smile. "Just checking."

----

"Why'd we come here again?" He side-stepped quickly as an unattended child ran past. "You hate shopping."

"I needed a distraction," she replied, eyeing the different stores on their side of the mall. "Too noisy for you?" She still occasionally forgot how trying crowds could be on telepaths.

"No, it's okay," he said. "Just wondering why you were feeling social all of the sudden."

"Like I said, I needed the distraction. Well, that, and it *is* amusing watching people try to stay out of your way."

"Cute," he replied sardonically.

Dom gave him an impish smile. "Just keeping you on your toes, Nate. Wouldn't want you to get soft on me."

_#You're in trouble when we get home.#_

_'Good.'_ She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Let's go in there."

----

"So, what do you think of this one?" She swung open the fitting room door.

Nate blinked. "That's...low cut," he commented finally.

Dom grinned. "I take that as approval?"

He nodded mutely. Amazing how she could still manage to do that to him... particularly when he took into consideration that fact that he was used to seeing her walk around in what was, essentially, glorified spandex. Not that she hadn't gotten creative with her uniform over the years... He shook his head and sighed, wandering out to the front of the store while Dom waited to check out. Roped into a day of shopping... Dom definitely owed him one, he decided. 

----

"You're getting that?" It was the third clothes store they'd hit in a row. He hadn't thought her resolve would last this long--Dom hated shopping on general principle. She certainly bitched about it enough.

"...why not?" She gave him a suspicious look.

"Well... it's...red..." He pointed out helpfully.

"Yeah, so?"

"So... it's not black. ...or purple." Dom shot him a dirty look. "I'm just saying. Besides, our closet is _already_ full..."

"Half that stuff doesn't fit," she retorted, firmly reminding herself that he was probably being aggravating on purpose.

"It would if you stopped skipping dinner all the time." He gave her a none-too-subtle poke in the ribs.

"Cut it out, Nate," she sighed, swatting his hand away.

"So... we almost done in here?"

"Yeah, why? Got an urge to go to the cooking store or something?"

"Very funny. No, but I am hungry..."

"Nate, the food court? In a mall?"

"We've eaten worse..."

"And personally, I am very glad I haven't had to eat an MRE in almost ten years," she replied.

"I think there was a Chinese place. It wasn't all McDonalds and Taco Bell..."

She rolled her eyes. "I should know better than to argue with your stomach."

----

Waiting in line at the Chinese place, Dom cast a not-so-idle look around the large food court. Funny, she reflected, how years of training taught her to be on her toes even in a place as seemingly innocuous as a mall. But any number of situations could turn just about any place into a battleground, as she'd learned in the past. And she owed that in no small part to the man standing in front of her, trying to communicate with the lady behind the counter.

A few minutes later they finally stepped away to look for a table. Domino smirked at Nate as he realized the only open spot appeared to be between two families with very noisy children. "I probably don't have to remind you that eating here was _your_ idea," she pointed out helpfully. He just shot her a dirty look and plonked down.

Thankfully, the families were on their way out. After several minutes of cacophony as all the children were rounded up and into jackets and hats, the area was finally comparatively quiet. A young couple took seats at one of the vacated tables, obviously not long married and with a baby that couldn't have been more than six months old. Luckily the child seemed content to watch all the adults around her, blue eyes wide as saucers. Nate sneaked a glance at Dom from over his plate, and caught her looking at them almost wistfully.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She glanced at him, startled out of her reverie. "I was _not_ staring, I'll have you know." 

"Hey, I didn't say a word..."

"Hmp. Right."

"Talk to me, Dom. What're you thinking about?"

She shook her head. "It just--" she pushed her hair out of her face. "Sometimes I wonder if I was ever like that. Normal."

He shrugged. "Who decides what 'normal' is, anyway?"

"Well, general consensus says it's the house in the suburbs with 2.5 kids and a dog," she replied wryly.

"You don't want that anyway."

"Don't bring logic into this," she retorted. "Besides, it still should have been my choice."

"Of course." He paused. "None of us has exactly gotten what we somehow think we're owed. If we had, we wouldn't do what we do."

"That's the thing, though, isn't it? I didn't agree to help you with X-Force because I felt like I was fighting for something I deserved, and I sure as hell didn't do it to be a hero. You needed me, and that was enough. I don't think that would change if I suddenly had everything I'd ever wanted handed to me tomorrow."

"Well, that's good to know."

She gave him a cheerless smile. "I just wish I could remember, so I could say 'it wasn't always like this.' I had to let go of too many dreams over the years. I tried so hard to pretend I didn't have any at all, because it hurt so much to have to keep watching them die." She stood up. "Maybe that's what this is about. I look around at these people, and all I see are my own dead dreams."

"It's not too late, you know," he replied, pushing in his chair, metal grating harshly against the concrete tiles. "That's why you decided you wanted to do this in the first place, isn't it?"

"Yeah." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and began wading through the sea of tables and chairs. "But it isn't that simple. We can't just _give up_ who we are. I don't think either of us _want_ to."

"Who says you have to?" He caught up to her, slipping his arm through the crook of her elbow. "Why does it have to be all or nothing, Dom?"

"How am I supposed to start building up this new life for me--for _us_--knowing there are a thousand ways it could be annihilated by morning?"

"It's called taking a risk, Dom." He shot her a serious look. "It's called having a little faith."

"Faith," she repeated bitterly. "It's not that simple, Nate."

"Didn't say it was simple. Or easy. It's not, but it doesn't mean it's not worth trying."

"I don't know where to start."

"That's okay. We'll figure it out eventually."

On their way out of the food court, they passed a group of loud, rowdy teenage boys, shoving each other and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Several cat-calls erupted and Domino shook her head, muttering something under her breath before blithely flipping them off. Nathan chuckled quietly and slid an arm around her waist.


	7. 

Mercury  
7/9 

Domino sighed, leaning against the creaking wood rail of the front porch as she heard the squeaky complaint of the screen door opening, followed by the sound of Nathan's boots on the decking. She'd rather been hoping he'd take the not-so-subtle clue she'd given him at dinner, and leave her alone. Leave it to Cable to jump at the chance to stick his nose where it wasn't invited. He'd always been sadistic like that. She took a long draw on her cigarette and exhaled slowly, pretending he wasn't standing a few paces away.

"You going to stand out here all night?"

"Maybe." She looked over, tapping ash from the cigarette. "Why?"

Nathan shook his head. "Thought you might want to come in."

Domino's eyes drifted out towards the tree line, where twilight was fast fading. "Nah." She took a drag on her cigarette and pulled her coat closer around her. "I'm fine."

"Sure?"

She glared. "If I wanted to go in, I would, okay? You going to stand here and question me all night?" 

"No," he replied tersely, "Go right ahead and enjoy yourself." He turned and went back inside, the screen door slamming shut behind him. 

Dom sighed and waited until she was done with her cigarette before following him inside. "What the hell is up with you tonight?"

He looked up, giving her a cross look. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Suddenly you're Mister Attitude. What gives?" She crossed her arms and glared.

He arched an eyebrow, an almost amused expression on his face as he looked at her. "Me. Attitude. Come off it, Dom. You're the one who's being bitchy."

"Oh, fuck you!" She shouted. "I wasn't doing _anything._ You're the one who stormed off!"

"Maybe I'm tired of getting blown off every time I ask a simple question. I'm not your personal punching bag, Dom, and I'm getting really flonqing sick of being expected to take whatever you feel like throwing at me." 

"Then why the hell don't you just _leave,_ if I make you so fucking miserable? I've got news for you, Nate, I've been this way since the day we met, I'm not gonna change any time soon. If you can't handle it, you know where the goddamned door is!" She yelled, and turned on her heel, stalking down the hall towards the bedroom.

He caught her arm just outside the door, and she turned, glaring at him as she yanked her arm away. "Don't fucking _touch_ me," she hissed.

Scowled right back at her, his eye flashing brightly with agitation as he pinned her in the doorway. "Why the _hell_ are you trying to shove me away again? Do you _really_ want me gone that badly?"

"I'm not--" She set her jaw, giving him a hard look. "It's not _about_ anything." She shifted, tried again, as if trying to find a way around the obstacle. "It's not that I'm unhappy. It's not that I don't want to be here, to have _you_ here. I'm trying to find my way through it all." She stopped with a frustrated sigh. "Do you want to yell at me? Just do it, okay? You're angry, that's fine. I'm not going to shatter just because you're pissed off. Maybe--I'm just tired of silence, I'm tired of the uneasy buzz in the back of my head that means you're aggravated even though you're patting my hand pretending it's all alright." Her hands clenched into fists, arms held close to her sides, though she wished she could throw something.   
"And I'm _sorry_. I know it's my fault, I know I shouldn't have played the games that I did. Fucking Christ--I was trying--I don't know. I just knew that you needed me, and that I was finally ready to see you again... but not with all my scars showing. Pride, maybe, but I wasn't about to admit how much I'd managed to fuck up, or how much I was hoping maybe seeing you would keep me from doing it again. Was it right? Hell, no. But I was there, and I couldn't walk away. Not when you were doing so well. And maybe I thought I could catch a little piece of that for myself. I tried, pretended, hoping if I smiled long enough it'd be true, and all this shit would sink into the background the way it *should.* I'm trying to let go. I'm *trying* to sort things through, but I feel guilty all over again every time I see that hurt look on your face. It makes me feel like I'm not living up to expectations."

"I couldn't care less about all that, Dom," he replied. "It doesn't matter if you screwed up or how badly, That doesn't make you any less worthy. All I *want* is you. All I need is my sarcastic, foul mouthed bitch of a partner who'll kick my ass with a grin and tell me to flonq myself when I'm wrong. And it's okay to be pissed off, it's okay to be upset. I don't *care* if you have bad days, as long as you let me try to make them better, or at least commiserate with you. What I *can't* stand is the way you keep kicking me to the sidelines and force me to watch as you throw yourself at walls. For someone who *swears* that all she wants is an honest shot at happiness, you spend an awful lot of time cultivating misery."

She stared into his face for a long moment, then looked away, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Why do you always have to have such damned reasonable requests?" She muttered under her breath. Her shoulders slumped as she let go of the last of her anger.

He reached out and slid an arm around her waist, his free hand rubbing her back as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Feel better now?"

"Maybe a little." She closed her eyes, feeling the fabric of his shirt against her cheek. "I think we needed that."

"Probably."

"Nate?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry. I mean--really..."

"I know."

She nodded, relaxing a little more. After a few moments, she straightened up again and he let her go reluctantly. She turned, walking into the bedroom, and pulled off her sweatshirt, letting it drop to the floor before casting a glance over her shoulder. He was still in the doorway, making no motion to move. "Well?" She didn't like the set of his shoulders, the tension there an uneasy one, as if he were trying to fend it off. She turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest. "Damnit, Nathan." She muttered in frustration. "What am I supposed to do, hide? Never let anyone touch me again? I've wanted to, but that doesn't make anything go away. It just gives me more time to dwell on it." She crossed to where he was standing. "I know you mean well, but stop being an idiot." She pushed up on her toes and kissed him soundly, then sighed in frustration as the concerned look on his face remained. "What's wrong?"

"Dom..." He paused, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "He never--Tyler..."

She shook her head. "No. No, Nate. He was a twisted piece of work, but he never touched me." It was true enough, after all. She felt a wave of relief as she saw the tension dissipate, and kicked herself mentally for not realizing his mind had been bound to go there, given how little she ever talked about that year. "Enough of this shit, okay? I'm getting cold just standing here."

"I noticed."

She narrowed her eyes and swatted him before walking back into the bedroom. This time, he followed.

----

She couldn't move. For a split second, panic threatened to grip her, but awareness of the sheets twisted around her, as well as the considerable bulk of Nate's arm draped across her waist quelled it. She muttered under her breath and rubbed at her eyes, glaring blearily at the bedside clock, whose red numbers blithely proclaimed it to be four thirty in the morning. "Hell," she grumbled, struggling to untangle herself from the sheets, grateful that Nate tended to sleep like the dead--at least when he knew he wasn't likely to be ambushed.  
She got up and wandered into the bathroom, splashing cold water from the sink on her face, scowling at her reflection. No wonder Nathan had been harping at her more than usual--she really did look like crap, though she doubted the sickly light from the fluorescent fixture above the sink helped much. She made a mental note to bitch a little less from now on, and stepped back into the bedroom. Cable was awake, sitting up against the headboard.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." She gave him an apologetic smile as she climbed back into bed. "Sheets were all twisted. Probably what woke me." She laid down again, yanking the covers around her shoulders. "Go back to sleep." She closed her eyes, shivering slightly as his hand slid along her skin. "That is _not_ sleeping," she grumbled good-naturedly, and heard him chuckle. "I mean it. Don't make me banish you to the couch."

"You wouldn't do that."

"You're forgetting whose house this is, buster. My rules." The reproach was a bantering one, and Nate certainly wasn't keeping his hands to himself. "Nate..." She tipped her head back as he kissed her neck. "I really _am_ tired. Could we continue this some time _after_ dawn?"

He settled in beside her, arm loose around her waist again, and kissed the crown of her head. "Sure."

----

Sharing a bed with Nate was rather like trying to share a bed with a bear, Domino mused. And overly amorous bear, at that. Still, there were worse ways to wake up. Much worse ways. The nicest thing, she'd long ago decided, was the feeling of security--it was safety and the knowledge that she was wanted, something which had always been a bit scarce in her life. "We should really get up," she said finally, though she curled up a little bit closer.

"Why?" The sleepy grumble of his voice sounded petulant, and his arms tightened around her slightly.

"It's after eleven," she pointed out.

"So?" Again, the grumpy, almost childish tone.

She laughed. "We can't lay here all day."

"Sure we can." He kissed her cheek. "Stay."

"_You_ are being silly," she replied.

"Why can't I just hold you?" He asked, sounding the tiniest bit hurt. "You're--always trying to get away."

"I didn't realize," she turned in the circle of his arms so she could look at him. His face had a vaguely troubled quality she couldn't quite define. "Nate..."

"It's okay." His hand came up and brushed the side of her face. "Just stay here." His fingertips lingered before sliding along her body, resting on her hip. A delicious sort of warmth spread through her. "I love you, you know."

"I know," She replied quietly. "We're really doing this, aren't we? This whole 'us' thing is really happening." She fingered the pendant around her neck.

"Trying," he replied and kissed her forehead. "Be easier if _someone_ were a little less stubborn."

"I--I'm doing the best I can. I'm just... not very good at this. Never have been," she said, so faintly he barely heard her.

He ran a hand through her hair. "You blame yourself too much."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "That, coming from the undisputed king of self-reproach." He gave her a hurt look, and she laughed. "Nate, it's not going to work. I'm immune to the puppy-dog eyes. Besides, telling a Summers not to angst is like telling the sun not to shine."

"You're mean," he mock-pouted. "Remind me why I put up with you?"

"Because you're a masochist," she grinned, sitting up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"_I_ have things to do. Therefore, _I_ am going to get dressed."

"You're assuming _I'm_ going to _let_ you."

"Oh?" She smirked. "Going to give me a reason to stay?"

He tugged her back over to him. "I think I can manage that."

----

"Hey, got a minute?"

Cable glanced up. "Sure." He shuffled papers and books around the table. Dom eyed the mess as she took a seat across from him.

"What are _you_ up to? Or don't I want to know?"

"Well...you said you wanted the equipment out of the spare bedroom..."

"Yes...and?"

"Well, just sticking it in the basement isn't exactly a solution. I thought we could divide the space in half... there'd be room for the washer and dryer, too."

Dom gave him a skeptical look. "You want me to let you loose, with _power tools_, on _my_ basement?"

"Why is it _your_ basement? I live here too..."

"_My_ name is on the mortgage payments!"

"...no it's not."

"...shut up." She swatted at him playfully. "We'll see, okay?"

"Now you're just patronizing me."

"Damned right," she replied smugly.

"So, you had something you wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah," her expression went serious again. "I managed to get some more information on the program," she said. "I found her real name."

"Your mother's?"

"Yeah," she replied with a slight frown. "It seems so weird to be talking about this--I don't really remember her."

"How'd you find it? We pretty much exhausted our resources."

"_You_ might have," she replied smugly. "I still had a few avenues open to me."

"Talked to Logan?" He asked. She scowled at him. "Dom, there are only so many people you could stand to hold an hour-long phone conversation with."

"Yeah, point," she replied.

"So what do we have?"

"Mostly confirmation of stuff we already suspected. She was a part of the same program Gaines was spying on. She defected at the same time he left for the states."

"They left together."

"Looks like. Maybe his cover was blown anyway and she talked him into getting her out. Maybe she blackmailed him, I don't know. She _was_ married, but all records of who he was conveniently vanished."

"Of course," he replied.

"So we know that she and my sister arrived here with false ids, she married Gaines, and they went off to live happily ever after."

"Until they were both murdered ten years later."

She leaned back in her chair. "Yeah. I dunno. You think her employers would bother coming after them? I doubt they were dumb enough to talk to anyone."

"Doesn't seem likely, no."

Domino sighed. "Y'know... maybe we're looking too hard at this. Maybe it was just revenge, pure and simple."

"For leaving?"

"Or running out on her husband with another man," she smiled faintly. "Not a lot of guys who'd take that well."

"Ten years is a long time to wait."

"I agree. But I also think we're far from having the whole picture here." She shrugged. "Either way, I have a feeling that whoever sent me this letter had something to do with those murders. And if so..." She stared down at her coffee for a long moment. "Maybe he knows what happened to me."

"You've considered the fact that he might not be who he claims?"

She snorted. "C'mon Nate. This is me, here. Since when have I ever taken anything at face value? For all I know, Gaines could be my father. If they were having an affair, it'd explain a few things. And if that comes out, and then his cover is blown?"

"It looks like she was helping him."

"Pretty much a death sentence, yeah." She shook her head. "It's all speculation, unfortunately." She got up and paced the length of the room. "Logan managed to find out where most of the project information is being stored now," she said finally, giving him a hesitant look.

"So when do we leave?"

----

_#I suppose he _had_ to come?#_

'I _asked him to._' Domino shot her partner a warning glance as they loaded the small jet _'So behave yourself.'_

_#_Me?_ What about him?#_

"Oh, I'm sure Logan will be on his best behavior," She replied aloud, grinning smugly at the dirty look Nate gave her.

"Sure thing, Darlin,'" Wolverine replied with a smirk. "So long as the tin man here doesn't do anything stupid," he added, tossing one of the bags into the plane.

Cable muttered something in Askani under his breath and tossed the last if the equipment into the hold. Dom was still grinning. _#You don't have to be_ quite _so pleased with yourself, you know,#_ he scowled.

_'What can I say? It amuses me.'_

_#He's aggravating.#_

_'Only because you let him push your buttons. Honestly, I think he only does it because it's so easy to get a rise out of you.'_

_#You're lucky I'm fond of you.#_

_'I know,'_ she replied with a mental laugh. "Well, I guess that's the last of it."

"Then we're ready t' go," Logan commented, fixing her with a scrutinizing look.

Domino tried her best to ignore it, and walked around to the front of the vehicle, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess we are."

----

The plane was on autopilot, but Dom checked over the controls again anyway, anything to keep her mind off of where they were headed. The idea was simple--they'd land near one of Nate's safe houses, conveniently near the military installation they were focusing on, spend a night getting a feel for the security, and then go in, get the information she hoped was there, and get out again. Quick and clean. In theory, anyway. The sick feeling in her gut, however, had her believing it wouldn't be that simple. It was too convenient--everything had been too convenient, right from the start, and she couldn't shake the conviction that she was being very purposefully drawn to this place. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. 

"You okay?" Nate murmured from the seat next to hers. Logan was behind them, acting indifferent to his surroundings, though Dom didn't buy it for a second. She knew him far to well to be tricked into believing he was ever oblivious to what was going on around him. The performance was probably more out of politeness than anything else, she thought wryly. She tipped her head to the side and gave Nathan a weary smile.

"Sure. I'm just hoping we're not coming all this way for a dead end," she lied, hoping he wouldn't notice. He didn't, or wasn't going to call her on it, and went back to staring out the windshield as the terrain flashed by indistinctly far below them. She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face, then cast a glance over her shoulder at Logan. This time, he was looking right at her, eyes locking on hers. He didn't need Nathan's telepathy to let her know exactly what he was thinking. Obviously, they were going to have a little chat sometime before this was all over. 


	8. 

Mercury  
8/9 

"Nice," Domino commented sardonically, dropping her bag on the floor as she surveyed the surroundings. "I hear the concrete look is really in this year." The small facility wasn't much--hardly distinguishable from the vast majority of Nate's safe houses... the ones she'd seen, anyway. Sometimes she had to wonder about the amount of effort Blaquesmith had put into building the elaborate network that had helped facilitate Nathan's mission for so many years. As much as she disliked the annoying insect, she couldn't help but be mildly impressed.

"Haven't used this one in awhile," Cable replied, carrying the rest of the gear into the safe house. "We won't be here long anyway."

"With any luck," she muttered under her breath.

"Think that's your department, darlin,'" Logan said with a smirk as he entered the building.

"Not lately," she replied dryly. "How far are we from the base?"

"Couple of miles, " Nate said. "We'll have tree cover most of the way."

She nodded. "Good. Any idea if the truck I saw out there still runs?"

"Should," he replied. "Might take a bit of coaxing, though."

"I'll go see to that, then. Think you two can plot us a route without a brawl?"

"I can take care of the truck, Dom--"

"I _said_ I'll do it, okay?" She replied tersely. When he didn't offer any further argument, she turned and headed back out the door.

"Wonderful." He scowled at the closed door, then glared irritatedly at the thoughtful look Logan was giving him. "What?"

"How long she been like this?"

Nathan shook his head. "She's not--she was fine."

Logan snorted. "Cut the bullshit, Summers. I know about the crap Wisdom dragged her into."

"It was her choice."

"An' that's why the bastard's still breathing." He replied casually, leaning against the wall. "How long?"

"The letter was bad timing."

Logan gave him a long look, then nodded, and also exited the building. Nathan muttered under his breath and started unpacking their equipment.

----

"Got that thing running?"

"Hm?" Dom glanced up from what she was doing. "Runs fine. Not exactly luxury," she commented, closing the hood. "but it sure as hell beats walking." She wiped her hands on a rag, then tossed it into the cab, pulling on gloves.

"You never did like the cold."

"_I'm_ not masochistic," she retorted. "If _you_ want to commune with nature, feel free. I'm sure Nathan would support the decision enthusiastically."

Wolverine chuckled, then gave her a pointed look. "What's all this about, darlin'?"

She glanced away from the measuring gaze. "I told you. I want to follow up the stuff in the letter."

"Bullshit. If y'r gonna lie that badly, 'least look at me while y'r doing it."

She stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat. "Life's got a funny way of making you face the past, whether you want to or not. Let's just say I didn't need the repeat performance."

"An' that's just a cryptic way of tellin' me there's more to this than what you've said."

She looked him in the eye. "Maybe. Girl's gotta have her secrets."

"Not when they're eatin' you alive."

She snorted. "First Nathan, now you. Doesn't _anyone_ see the irony in us debating full disclosure here?"

"All I know is, right now, I'm lookin' at a fifteen year old I thought you'd put behind you a long time ago."

She gave him a humorless smile. "Appearances can be deceiving. I never was good at letting go of the past. Just running from it." She walked back towards the safehouse, pulling open the door and ducking inside. "Hey, Nate. Get your ass in gear. I want to get a preliminary look at this place while we've still got the dark for cover."

----

"So what have we got?" Cable asked as he leaned back against a tree, hands crammed into the pockets of his parka. Domino had the binoculars and was currently scanning the squat, grey building half-buried in snow set a ways off from the edge of forest they were currently sheltered in. Logan was staring intently forward, apparently oblivious to the biting cold. 

"Three guys on the outside, looks like." Dom replied. "Armed, but not much of a problem. Probably an alarm on the building itself, but nothing else I can see." She lowered her binoculars. "Should be pretty cut and dry."

Logan gave a slight nod, and straightened from his crouch. "Looks that way."

"I still want a little more time to go over the layout," Dom said absently, rubbing her gloved hands together in an attempt to get back some feeling. "The less time we spend in there the better."

"Sure you ain't just stallin' for time?" Logan questioned, fixing her with a piercing look.

"It's _my_ mission," she countered heatedly, glaring down at him.

"Are we done here?" Cable broke in, pushing off the tree. "Or should I continue trying to shield us from those soldiers while you two bicker?"

"We're done," Domino replied tersely, giving Logan one last hard glance. "We'll hit them tomorrow night." Without another word, she turned and vanished into the trees, heading back towards the truck.

----

Domino winced as the truck jolted, her head banging painfully against the door frame. There was a gruff curse from the back, where Logan was doing his best to keep from falling out of the vehicle as Cable jerked it over the jarring terrain. "Take it easy, will you Nate? You're going to break an axle or something."

He shot her a quick glare. "Do _you_ want to drive? If not, shut up so I can concentrate. This isn't exactly a paved highway, if you hadn't noticed."

Dom scowled at him. "Why are you being such an ass all of the sudden? I would have left you at home if I'd known you were going to be such a bastard about it."

"I'm not," He bit out, then cursed as the truck hit a half buried rock and shuddered again. "But I don't like this. At all."

"Opinion noted." Dom replied irritatedly. "Believe it or not, I don't much like it either. But then, I never _asked_ to have all of this dropped in my lap, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't take your misgivings out on me." She settled back in her seat again, wrapping her arms around her in an attempt to keep warm. The wind cut right through the vehicle, however, making any real comfort almost impossible. "And it hardly matters, anyway. We're here now. Might as well get it over with." Cable didn't reply, and she tipped her head to the side, so she could see his face again. His features were set in a stern, determined look, and she sighed, turning away again to stare at the darkness outside the window.

----

_She dreamt she was drowning._

_Black water stretched for miles around her, curving with the horizon, vanishing without sight of land. The only illumination was the stars dancing coldly in the void above, reflecting on the water with all the warmth of chips of ice. She treaded water for an impossible amount of time, until her arms and legs screamed with the strain and the sting of the frigid water. She fought against it, but couldn't move any longer, as if her joints had locked up, bones frozen in place. She tipped her head back trying to keep her head above the water, watching her breath frost in the air as she felt her chest constrict, squeezed tight by the cold.   
She was swallowing water suddenly, and couldn't stop, as though it were just the same as air filling her lungs, numbing and suffocating. She caught a last glimpse of the indifferent stars, shimmering through the water as she sank downward into the darkness._

She woke shivering, and yanked the blankets tighter around her shoulders, while trying not to fall off the too-narrow cot she was sharing with Nathan. The cold from the dream seemed to follow her into wakefulness, beyond the reach of warmth from mere blankets. Nate mumbled in his sleep and his arms closed more tightly around her waist. She could faintly hear Logan's breathing from across the room. The room itself was nearly pitch black, save for the scant green glow from some of the equipment on the far side of the room. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.   
Domino hadn't been this jittery the night before a mission in ages--certainly not over one as cut and dry as this one looked to be. Then again, it wasn't the op she was concerned about, was it? She'd been fighting the urge to axe the whole thing since they'd arrived. Truth be told, she'd been half-hoping they'd find some legitimate reason to abort the mission. Still, she found herself wondering, could anything she found here be worse than the nightmares or the yawning gap in her memories?

----

_#Split up?#_

_#Probably still the best way to go, yeah,#_ Dom replied through the link Nathan had connected the three of them with. _#Wouldn't want anyone alerting his buddies--or the staff inside.#_ She crouched down amongst the scrubby foliage only meters from the perimeter of the base. _#They haven't even got cameras,#_ she noted.

_#It was a dead-end Cold War project. Probably doesn't rank high on their list of security concerns.#_

Dom shook her head. _#It's all too damned convenient, if you ask me,#_ she sighed. _#Okay--#_ She scanned the building a final time in the fading light of the fast-setting sun. They'd spent the brief daylight hours fine-tuning their plan as best they could, going over the building's layout and security routines they'd observed the evening before. The building itself was L-shaped, with one wing to the east and the other to the south. The forest they were currently concealed at the edge of ran from north to west. There was one guard patrolling the north and one on the west side, with the remaining soldier guarding the east and south, which faced a featureless expanse of tundra.  
The only entrance was on the south-facing leg of the building. _#Logan, you go west. There's enough scrub to cover your approach. I'll take the guy out here, and Nathan can go east, since he won't need the cover. We'll meet at the entrance.#_ She looked away from the building and the visible soldier, and back at her two companions. Wolverine gave her a quick nod and vanished into the trees. Cable lingered a moment longer before he too moved off. Domino rocked back on her heels and took a deep breath, watching for the right moment to move. 

It wasn't long in coming. Shortly, the soldier began digging around in his coat pockets, slinging his rifle over a shoulder as he clumsily shook a cigarette from a battered pack and began fumbling with his lighter. The wind blew the flame out twice, and with what sounded like a curse, he turned towards the building for better shelter. As soon as his back was turned, Dom moved from her position, sprinting quickly across the hard-frozen ground.  
The impact as she collided with the guard knocked his rifle away, and a none-too-gentle slam of the head against the concrete of the building rendered him unconscious. She grabbed up the weapon and the guard's radio, and left him tied in the shelter of the building. Cautiously, she made her way around to the east end of the building. If Nathan hadn't made his move yet, she didn't want to alert the guard. The caution proved unnecessary; the guard was bound and propped neatly against the side of the building, and Nathan was nowhere in sight. She moved on towards the rendezvous point. 

----

"What kept you?" Wolverine asked casually, leaning against the side of the building. 

"Traffic," she retorted dryly. "What have we got?"

"Standard military security," he replied. "Tin-Man didn't bother to get us the code before he knocked his guy for a loop," he continued, jerking a thumb in Cable's direction. The other man scowled and made a motion to reply, but Dom waved it off. 

"Not now, boys. Besides, we've got it covered." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a flat, rectangular object, and fitted it over the electronic lock's keypad, eyes on the display as the software went to work. There was a soft 'beep' a few moments later, and she looked up again. "And we're in."   
As the door opened, Cable and Wolverine slipped inside as Domino removed the device and tucked it away again, then followed her companions into the facility. 

The corridor they found themselves in looked like that of any government facility; bland, utilitarian, definitely boring. The facility seemed deserted--only its cleanly state betrayed its occupation. Doors punctuated the hall at even intervals, leading to dark, empty offices. What little activity that might be occurring in the building seemed to be centered elsewhere.   
They moved quickly, finally stopping at the juncture between the two wings. The information they'd come for was in the records office in the east end of the building. Domino put down the rifle she was carrying and stripped off her bulky coat. "This is the last stop for you guys."

"Dom--"

"It's _not_ up for debate. Either of you." She shot them both warning looks. "This is my mission. Either it's what it seems, I get the info we came for, or it's not, and I deal with it. But it's _my_ shit to deal with." She glanced down the hallway. "If you want to be useful, make sure you keep this place clear."

"Twenty minutes. Then we're coming after you," Cable grated. She gave him a curt nod, and vanished down the corridor. He watched her go, muttering under his breath.

"It was her call."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

----

The way was remarkably clear. She'd expected at _least_ a guard or two, but except for the security they'd encountered outside, there was nothing. The facility was empty. She sprinted silently down the darkened halls, stopping finally just short of the target room. She checked over her weapon one last time, steeled herself, and went in.

"Hello, Nika. I was wondering when you'd get here."

The room was filled with tall shelves in long, even rows, stacked with boxes, and filing cabinets lined the white painted cinderblock walls. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the man standing before her. Late 50s, tall, still in decent physical shape, his dark hair streaked with grey. "Who are you?" She demanded.

"I think you know," he replied.

"Humor me. And stay where you are."

He sighed. "My name's Andrei Dashkov. I sent the letter."

"Then I guess you have some explaining to do, don't you?"

"Please, put the gun away? I'm unarmed."

After a moment, she lowered the weapon, but kept it un-holstered. "You've got twenty minutes. Start talking."

"All right," he replied in a conciliatory tone, pulling out a chair from a desk near the door and sitting down. "Where do you want me to start?"

"I know what this department did. I know my mother fled from here, and I know you--if you're who you claim--had something to do with my sister's death. What I want is the truth. No more tricks, no more mind-games. Just tell me what happened."

"You're very persuasive," he replied wryly. "All right. The truth, then." He let out a long sigh, eyes closing briefly as if gathering his thoughts." Jenica--your mother, was never happy here. From the moment she entered the program, she hated it. But it was better than starving, and that was her only real alternative. She was a--" he paused. "Empath, I think that's the term. Low level, but she could tell when people were lying. She was very good at it. We met not long after she joined. She told me she liked me from the start because I didn't lie like every one else." He shook his head sadly. "Won't you sit down? I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'll stand, thanks," she replied icily.

"Very well. As I said, she hated it here. It didn't matter that we were treated well, better than most of our people at that time. But we had each other and that was all right. There wasn't a problem until after your sister was born. Fayina--" He closed his eyes. "She meant the world to her...to both of us."

"Ironic, since you stood by and let her be killed."

"That was never meant to--" He stopped. "You need to hear this in order. I can explain what it is you think you remember."

"So far, you're not doing a very good job." Domino narrowed her eyes, shifting her weight as she watched him, trying to keep herself focused on the surroundings and avoid the conflicting emotions and fragments of memory at war in the back of her mind. "She left here, eventually, with Kristian Gaines."

"The spy, yes," he replied dryly, a dark look flashing momentarily over his features. "She knew about him, and things between us were... strained. She was pregnant again, and the department had the profoundly bad timing to announce that they were going to start monitoring the project members' children for special abilities--mutants were not well understood then and they weren't sure what to expect. Jenica... did not want her children to grow up as soldiers," he said with a hint of ironic humor. "So she left with Gaines. Maybe she blackmailed him. I don't know."

Her stomach had tightened itself in a knot, her grip on the gun so tight her knuckles ached. She didn't like the way this was playing out--every word, every gesture seemed an act put on for her benefit, as if trying to persuade her. As if anything he said could make up for the hell that still haunted her sleep. "And ten years later, you hunted them down and killed them," she snarled. "Why? Why couldn't you just let us go?" 

Andrei shook his head and muttered something under his breath. "You have your mother's temper, you know. I never wanted them dead. I still loved her, but I also felt betrayed. At the time, there was too much else going on--Gaines didn't know anything of value and we couldn't spare the manpower to track them down. It was deemed unimportant. It took me a long time to convince command to let me look for you."

"For what? So you could avenge yourself?" She glared at him, rage bubbling up beneath the surface. He seemed so collected, as if he'd rehearsed it all a thousand times before. For all she knew, he had.

"I was a father! I had one daughter torn from my life and another I'd never even seen! Can you blame me? Can you blame any parent for that?" This time genuine feeling punctuated his words, the first glimpse of real emotion she'd seen from him.

"When you resort to the murder of your former wife and her husband, I can." She stared him down, body tense. "When you let one child die and the other be sold like _nothing,_ I sure as hell can blame you!"

"You don't understand." He waved a hand, as if dismissing her anger. "If you had children of your own, perhaps..." He trailed off. "You would know what that sort of love can drive a man to do, how it can tear you apart." He stopped, as if waiting for a reaction. She gave him none. "Their deaths were not my idea," He continued finally, sounding suddenly weary of the conversation. "I wasn't even in that house. Your sister had taken you into the desert to hide, and I was tracking her. I don't know what went wrong there--but it was a mistake. There were too many mistakes. She was smart, your sister... it took me a good while to finally track you down. She wanted nothing to do with me, though, and when we brought you both here... there was a struggle, and Fayina could be dangerous. Someone made a bad call, and she was killed. There wasn't anything I could do to stop it." He stood, walking over to her, and reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. Domino stepped back a pace, gun leveling at him before he dropped his hand. "You look so much like her."

"Like _who_?"

"Your mother," he said sadly.

"I don't remember her, or you... hell, about all I remember of my sister is watching her bleed to death on the fucking floor!"

Andrei stepped back, posture subdued. "That, I am afraid, is all my fault. If you must hate me for something, hate me for that. I was grieving, I'd lost my life and one child already, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you as well. They told me she could--" He ran a hand through his hair, expression pained. "I didn't want you to remember all that violence, to think that was who I was. But the telepath warned me... I should have listened."

"And you let her tear me apart."

He looked away. "Yes." Domino clenched her jaw, unable to move as she stood there staring at him. "You were in a coma afterwards," he continued. "There wasn't much hope of recovery, I was told. The chances--" He trailed off. "I know you can't remember, but I stayed by your side until the day I was ordered to send you away."

She laughed humorlessly. "You make it sound like a damned boarding school!"

"I didn't know!" He cried plaintively. "I had someone else make the arrangements, someone I never should have trusted. I was told you died a few months later, that the body had been 'dealt with.'" His eyes narrowed. "Viktor must have done it, he was opportunistic. I wouldn't have been allowed to care for you anyway. But if I had known! If he weren't already dead, I would kill him for it." 

The look of anguish on his face was real, his anger real. Domino shook her head, looking away. "Why did you do this?" She asked quietly. "Why the hell did you lead me here?"

"When I found out you were alive... I wasted my life, Nika. I managed to destroy everything I had, and for what? A war that never came? To become the head of a department that is only a shell now, without purpose? You're my last tie on earth. I wanted to see you again, to talk to you."

"What? So we could trade Christmas cards? Maybe take a nice father/daughter trip someplace?" She laughed. "To me, you're nothing more than a shadow who's stalked my nightmares for the last twenty years. You're an old man trying desperately to pretend he's not responsible for what happened to his own damned family. You've brought nothing but *hell* into my life. Why the fuck should I want anything to do with you?"

"I'm your father."

She slid her gun into its holster. "You're a stranger."

"I wanted to see you again," he repeated, walking over and pressing something into her hand. "I was wrong. I thought perhaps we--but even I cannot think of a reason why you shouldn't hate me for what I did. I never wanted to hurt you." He paused, then kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Be happy. Prove despite everything I did, your mother didn't die for nothing." He turned and walked away, departing through a door on the other side of the shadowed room.

Domino looked down at the old, creased photograph in her hand, then tucked it in her belt and left. 


	9. 

Mercury  
9/9 

"You weren't going to say anything, were you?"

Dom slung the bag back over her shoulder, hand dropping from the door handle as she turned, sunglasses half-slid down her nose. Her eyes didn't meet his, though. "I need..."

"Space." He finished, turning away to watch as wind-blown leaves rattled across the driveway. He heard her shifting her weight, the nylon fabric of the duffel bag scraping across the leather of her jacket. "There isn't enough space in the world for you, though. You can't outrun yourself."

"Maybe." Her voice was carefully neutral, he noticed. She wasn't interested in an argument, she just wanted to make her escape. 

Escape. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile as he scuffed absently at the gravel drive with a battered boot-toe. He shook his head and walked back towards the house.

"I would have called," she said when he'd reached the porch steps, poised to go back inside.

"Sure," he replied, and continued inside without a glance back.

She listened to the screen door slam shut, waited a few minutes, half expecting to see him watching from the window. He wasn't, though, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. With a yank, she opened the door of the jeep, dropped her bag onto the seat next to her, and dug her keys out of her pocket. Jamming the keys into the ignition, she cranked the wheel and pulled out, gravel popping under the tires. 

----

She hadn't known where she was headed really, and as she walked over the dead grass of the cemetery lawn, wind whipping her dark hair around her face, she decided she still didn't know. 

She found the spot with ease; the stone was where the directory had said it would be. It wasn't much. Then again, she hadn't expected frills for two people who were probably remembered more for how they'd died than how they'd ever lived. She set the mixed bunch of flowers down on the hard ground and swiped her hair back from her forehead, staring up at the faded sky, trying to think of what to say. Talking to the dead seemed so clichéd and pointless suddenly. Domino took a deep breath and knelt down in front of the plain granite block, fingers tracing the names and dates, waiting to feel something, anything that would give her some connection to the people they represented. There wasn't, of course. Why should there be? They were ghosts to her at best, half-remembered in the middle of the night.   
"Seems like sometimes, no matter how you try, things just don't go the way we want, huh?" She murmured under her breath. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of obligation she felt--she didn't know these people, but she knew what they'd done in the hope she'd have a better life. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and laughed humorlessly. "Fate's a bitch like that." She straightened up again and shook her head, giving the grave a final glance before turning away.

She still felt hollow as she pulled away, the jeep kicking up dust behind her. She fixed her eyes on the road ahead of her, keeping her mind carefully blank. Everything was still too close to the surface, still threatening to break free, and it took all the control she had to hold it at arms length so she could breathe. So she drove, the landscape blurring around her, fall air rushing in through the rolled down window as she sped in the opposite direction of the house in the desert that called like a siren in the back of her head. She lit a cigarette and considered, as she thumbed the lighter, how good it would feel to watch the place burn. Arson wouldn't accomplish a damned thing, though. Flames couldn't burn away the memories she wished she could lose again. 

Dom drove until the daylight wore itself out, then pulled into a truck stop to stretch and grab something to eat. She'd unwittingly pointed herself in the direction of Las Vegas--never mind that she was blacklisted in almost every casino there. A few more hours and she'd be bathed in the neon glow of Sin City itself. She went inside and took a seat at the counter, suddenly wishing she'd picked a more conservative outfit when she'd gotten dressed that morning as heads swiveled in her direction. She scowled, and concentrated on the menu. She wasn't in the mood to fend off advances. The waitress came by eventually and she ordered a burger, concentrating on the faux-wood countertop and sipping the coffee the woman had brought as she waited for the meal to arrive.

"This seat taken?"

She looked up from her contemplation of the Formica and scowled. "Yes. My imaginary pet alligator is sitting there, and he'll be pissed if you take his seat."

"Hey, no need to be hostile. I wasn't trying to--y'know."

She arched an eyebrow. "Riiight." She went back to her coffee. The guy looked like Bobby Drake in flannel. Unthreatening--but then, she'd learned the hard way that looks could be deceiving. Unfortunately, this guy couldn't take a hint. She could sense him still standing behind her.

"Would it help if I told you I'm gay?" He laughed.

"Depends. Do I have to believe you?"

"Nah." He took a seat on the stool next to hers. "I really didn't mean to intrude. You're giving off some pretty serious unhappy vibes. Thought maybe you could use someone to talk to."

She gave him an incredulous look. "What are you, a traveling shrink? No thanks."

He shook his head. "So, this alligator of yours have a name?"

"Logan. He bites."

"Ahhh. An attack gator, then." He deadpanned, picking up a menu and looking it over. Meanwhile, her order arrived, and she picked at the fries, eyeing the sandwich. She'd asked for no tomatoes, she thought with a sigh, as she peeled the top layer of toast off the turkey club. She dropped the offending slices onto her plate and put the sandwich back together, talking a bite. "So, heading to Vegas?" She arched an eyebrow at him in lieu of a response, and he shrugged. "Not a whole lot else way out here. Vacation?"

"Not exactly," she replied finally.

"Business?" He asked, disbelievingly.

"It's...more complicated then that." She sighed. "Look--"

"You don't want to pour your life story out to some guy in a diner in the middle of nowhere, when, for all you know, I'm a psycho axe murderer, right?"

She smiled faintly. "Get that a lot?"

He shrugged again. "After awhile, you get used to it." He trailed off as his meal arrived. She finished her own food, and signaled for the check.

"Um...I'm sorry for--"

He waved a hand. "Hey, don't worry about it. Like I said, I'm used to it. You enjoy your trip, okay?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'll try."

She paid and headed out into the parking lot, pulling out and heading back towards the interstate. Reaching over, she flipped on the radio and scanned through the stations. Finally giving up, she dug out a cassette tape and stuck it into the outdated player, turning up the volume as blues began to play over the speakers.  
She wished she knew what the hell she was doing. Following her gut, she supposed, caving into the built-up neuroses that compelled her to turn tail and run whenever a situation threatened to turn into an emotional one. On one level, she felt bruised and raw--that her father had turned out to be a man more concerned with easing his own conscience than addressing the wrongs he'd done was hurtful. Somewhere, deep down, she'd been hoping for closure, for an explanation that would somehow justify the pain of her childhood. That there wasn't one was hardly surprising, but the proof had shattered the last fragile illusions she'd been clinging to for so many years. It rendered all the suffering pointless. In rediscovering her past, she'd somehow lost more of herself than she'd gained.

Domino forced herself to relax her grip on the steering wheel, feeling the ache in her knuckles from clenching her hands too tightly. She was angry, more than anything else. Angry at her father for contacting her after all this time, at the feelings he'd evoked. Angry at her inability to blame him for all the things she so desperately wanted to. Angry at knowing her whole life had been one horrible mistake. Most of all, she was angry for running again, when she knew she should turn the car around and go home, explain everything to Nate and let him hold her while she screamed at the injustice of it all.   
Instead, she was just repeating old mistakes. The last time she'd been in Vegas, she'd been 'celebrating' her departure from the NSA, trying to outrun the guilt that dogged her for having run out on her marriage to Milo. Muttering, she dug a cigarette and her lighter from her pocket, lighting up and taking a long drag, exhaling slowly. She wasn't going to think about this now. She was just going to concentrate on the last half hour of her drive, then check into the room she'd manage to con her way into at the Aladdin, and take a long, relaxing bath. No stress, no worrying about all the shit in her life that refused to go away. 

----

"And here's your keycard, Ms. Winter. Enjoy your stay."

She collected the envelope from the receptionist and mumbled her thanks, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the elevators. There was a decent crowd, people checking in and moving back and forth between the hotel itself and the casino, which she planned to utterly avoid. It wasn't worth the hassle of disguising herself, for one thing, and beating the house out of its money had long ago lost its appeal.   
She found the room and let herself in, dropping the bag near the dresser and giving the place a quick once over. Nice room, decent view--there was an outdoor swimming pool, though it was getting to be too late in the year for it. Just as well, she hadn't brought a suit with her. She wandered into the bathroom and started running water in the oversized marble tub. After the drive down, a good long soak was exactly what she needed. 

Leaving it to fill, she wandered back into the suite, and unpacked the sparse contents of the bag, tossing everything but her back-up weapon into the drawer. She eyed the phone for a moment, then thought better of it. She really didn't want to deal with Nathan just yet. He was probably still irritated with her, and a yelling match over the phone was really the last thing she wanted. She went to the large windows on the far side of the room and watched for awhile, the neon glow of the strip tingeing the night sky orange. Once the bath was finished filling, she stripped off her clothes, tossing them in a balled up heap in the far corner of the large bathroom, and slipped into the warm water, finally relaxing a little as she rested her head back against the edge and closed her eyes.

----

_"There's got to be something I can do! Something my powers--my luck--can do..." _

_"My luck ran out... the first time... I lost you Dom."_

She sat up with a start, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. "Milo... damnit!" She muttered as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer on the underside of her ribs, and she took a long, slow breath to regain her composure. "Of all the times for my conscience to make an appearance," She sighed as she shoved damp hair out of her face and opened the drain, grabbing a towel from the rack as she got out and walked over to the shower. Once she was clean and warmed up again, she pulled on a pair of old cotton pajama pants and a tank top, flipping on the TV as she towel-dried her hair.

"...in other news, there are still no suspects in the bombing of a biotech facility in Santa Clara late last night. As of yet, no ties have been made to a similar rash of bombings on the East Coast, targeting facilities owned by GenCorp, a genetics research firm which came into the spotlight late last year with the announcement that they had developed a test which would allow expectant couples to test their unborn children for the presence of the gene that causes mutancy. There has been some speculation that the bombings could be the work of a militant mutant organization, bent on--"

Domino clicked off the TV with a sigh, and tossed the remote on the bed as she reached for the phone. It rang four times before someone finally picked up. 

"Hello?"

"Hey Sam, just caught the news--"

"We're all fine. We were watchin' two different warehouses, actually. Just our luck, Ah guess--" he paused as voices rose loudly in the background, and she heard a muffled request for them to quiet down. "The rest of the gang says 'hello,'" he replied finally. "Is somethin' up?"

"Why would there be?" She asked, keeping her tone neutral. "I was just calling to make sure you little monsters hadn't gotten yourselves into any trouble." 

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Cable already called. So Ah'm assumin' you're not at home, is all."

"Ahh." She sighed. She hadn't thought of that. "No, everything's fine, Sam. _I'm_ fine. Just decided I needed a little R&R after my little pet project, that's all."

"If ya say so..." There was a pause again as he stopped to talk with someone else in the room. "Tab says that if you're gonna be coming back this way, you'd better stop by, or we'll be forced t' crash Oregon some weekend."

Dom chuckled. "Tell Ms. Smith I will make sure to do that. I don't think the state could handle you all. Glad you're all okay. I'll see you soon, okay?" 

"Sure thing Dom. Take care."

"I always do. Bye, Sam." She put the phone back in its cradle, shaking her head. She flopped back on the bed, grabbing up the remote again, and settled in to channel surf.

----

_She shook her head, trying to clear the hair from her eyes. The movement hurt, but the pain was all that kept her sane, really. She'd given up hope of rescue months ago. The damp, cold air assaulted her exposed skin, causing her to shiver despite herself. A tug on the restraints proved them to be no more lenient than they had been the last hundred or so times she'd tried it. Still, she couldn't help but pray--something shifted in the shadows at the edge of her peripheral vision, and she went rigid.  
She should have known--the guards always gathered like vultures after Tolliver strung her back up. Hell, she'd bet good money the psycho was standing there in the shadows too, watching. He didn't seem to care what they did to her, as long as they didn't hurt her too much. Most of the time, they just fondled her like a piece of meat. "Story of my life," she muttered under her breath as her stomach tied itself in knots. Abandoned, left to the whims of men who'd fuck anything with tits._

_She closed her eyes and sighed, head leaning against the wall as footsteps closed in, not quite managing to suppress a jerk as a hand ran along the exposed skin of her inner thigh. It didn't matter, she told herself. Just like all the times before, it didn't matter. She held her breath and winced, trying to choke back a sob, and waited for it to end._

----

Her eyes snapped open, heart racing in her chest as she took a moment to orientate to her surroundings. The TV was playing an infomercial, and he right leg had fallen asleep from the way she was sitting. Shifting carefully, she stretched her leg out, wincing at the pins and needles sensation that accompanied the movement. She dug around the covers for the remote and switched off the television as she sat up against the headboard, arms resting on her knees. She sighed, rolling her shoulders to try and ease some of the tension that had followed her from the dream. She was suddenly, achingly aware of the empty place beside her in the bed.

"My own damned fault," she muttered, shaking her head in disgust. She was the one who'd decided to run, after all. As much as Nate's presence might have been welcomed at that moment, there were too many other issues hanging over her head. Besides, she knew damned well the only reason that particular dream had come back to haunt her was because of all the other emotional garbage she'd been dealing with. A chain reaction she supposed, pull on one thread, the rest unraveled. Milo would have made a bad domino analogy about the whole thing, but then, he'd had a certain aggravating fondness of overly trite puns. Some days she still wasn't sure what she'd seen in him. Her chest constricted a little at the thought. She'd told herself she wasn't going to think about Milo, but the city seemed to be bringing out the worst of her introspective tendencies. With a curse, she got up and pulled on her clothes again. Sitting there brooding wasn't the answer, especially when she was sitting in the middle of a city that offered ample distractions twenty-four hours a day.

----

After pacing up and down the strip, finding nothing that caught her attention, Domino finally ducked into an uncrowded restaurant. She didn't feel like dealing with drunk tourists, and flashy shows weren't her style, anyway.  
She ordered coffee, secure in her booth near the back of the restaurant, and sank back in the seat, lighting a cigarette. One of the up-sides of Vegas--you could still smoke in the restaurants. She traced idle circles on the tabletop, letting her eyes drift around the restaurant and smiled faintly to herself. She probably looked like hell with her hair a mess and too little sleep under her belt. She wondered, not for the first time, just what the hell she thought she was doing here. Running away had never been a solution--no matter how much she wanted it to be. It always came back to bite you in the end, one way or another. She sighed, and gave the waitress a half-hearted thanks as she brought her coffee. 

No, it wasn't a solution, and she'd tried so hard to keep the promise she'd made to herself after Milo had died--she wasn't going to do it again. She couldn't live with the guilt. It made her feel like a coward and a failure, knowing she'd abandoned him twice. Once because she didn't want to hurt him--funny how she'd decided letting him think she was dead was more merciful than breaking his heart by telling him she wanted out. It hurt to think about it now, knowing she'd been afraid he'd somehow convince her to stay, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would have been right in doing so. She'd honestly loved him, and it still hadn't been enough to make her stay. The second time--she took a sip of her coffee, trying to ignore the way her hands shook, ever so slightly. She'd had years now to reflect on it, countless nights to lie awake and let it eat away at her from the inside, trying to find the weakness that had allowed him to die like that, without ever acknowledging the feelings she'd felt for him. Sometimes, she could comfort herself by rationalizing it all--he knew, he had to have known, after all. She prayed to god he hadn't had time to wonder why she'd never come for him. It was a question she couldn't have answered.  
And yet, even with how much all of that haunted her, she'd done it again to Nathan. Twice now, in fact. She didn't _want_ to be here, she didn't want to be hurting him like she was, but it was the only thing that assuaged the panic that sat in the back of her brain, threatening to take over. There had to be a way past it. Milo had been her first victim; she didn't want to make Nate the second one.

She rested her head on her hand and sighed, staring at her reflection in the cup. She'd meant for this trip to give her time to sort out her feelings over the mess with her father--so why was she sitting here brooding over her decision to come instead? She frowned as the pendant around her neck chose that moment to slip free from her shirt, swinging in and out of her peripheral vision.

She fingered the pendant lightly, feeling the upraised symbol at its center. A promise, that's what he'd called it. A promise that he wasn't going to push her away anymore, a promise he'd remember there was more to their relationship than just 'partners,' now. And what had she given him in return? A veritable slap in the face.  
He very rarely wore the pendant hers was modeled after--it had become a sort of non-verbal signal to her, letting her know when he was feeling a little more lost than normal. It made sense, in a way. It was one of the few, solid links to his past he still had, after all. In defeating Apocalypse, he'd also destroyed his home. His past, its culture and all the people he had known had vanished from the time stream, existing now in only his memories. She couldn't begin to imagine the scope of the isolation he must have felt at times.  
She felt a sudden wave of guilt at having had the nerve to leave like she had, tearing herself away and leaving him bereft of another of his scant ties. Amazing how he could make her feel wretched, even from nine hundred miles away. She finished the coffee and left money to cover the bill, glancing at her watch. It was late, but there was a chance Nathan would still be awake... Digging change out of her pocket, she headed for the payphones at the front of the dinner. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe." She held the phone tight to her ear, trying to hear over the noise around her.

"Dom."

She sighed at the distance in his voice and leaned an arm against the wall. "Nate... I'm okay. I just--I can't come back just yet. But I wanted you to know..." she trailed off, head dropping at the silence on the other end.

"Where are you?" He asked finally.

"I--I've got to go. But I wanted to let you know... Love you. I'll be home soon." 

----

She wandered the strip aimlessly for a few hours more, weaving in and out of throngs of people beneath the glaring neon lights of the casinos. The phone call hadn't done a thing to improve her mood--there'd been far too much tension in the silences between them. She paused to light another cigarette and shook the near-empty pack forlornly. Well, she really needed to quit again, anyway. She inhaled deeply and sighed, wishing she could shake off the tension that was making her shoulders ache. Things had definitely _not_ gone as planned. Then again, who was she kidding? There was absolutely no reason Nathan _should_ have been feeling chatty and amiable. She'd tried to sneak out on him--again, she noted with a wince. She really needed to grow a spine one of these days, she thought disgustedly. She could have at least said she needed time to his face instead of trying to slip out while he wasn't paying attention. It was no wonder he was pissed with her--he had every right to be.  
Still, his coolness with her over the phone certainly hadn't helped her mood any. She'd thought she was doing a good thing, the _right_ thing, calling and reassuring him that she was indeed coming back, it was just going to take her a little bit longer. Too little, too late, she supposed. She'd already turned down the hand that had always been there, waiting for her to take. He wanted to help her and she wanted nothing to do with him. Given that, she had absolutely no right to go looking around for comfort from him. She'd made her bed, it was only fitting she lay in it now. She kicked absently at trash on the sidewalk and started wandering back in the direction of the hotel. She'd damn well earned every ounce of the self-loathing she was suddenly feeling. Her fuck up, her consequences to deal with. Same as it'd always been, really, only now, she was wishing she could take it all back. She wrapped her arms around herself and swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, trying to shake off the disgust and apprehension that were clawing at her.

----

She dropped her jacket on the bed when she got back to the room and stuck the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. She certainly didn't want to be bothered by the cleaning staff in the morning. She collapsed back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to do with herself. She _wanted_ a drink, but even she wasn't that masochistic.  
Nate had been right, of course. She couldn't run from herself, and she didn't have the heart to be angry at him. She should have learned her lesson by now; just because she didn't like the situation didn't mean it was going to go away. She'd had more than enough experience to prove that. So what the hell was she doing running away again? 

Maybe it was fear, plain and simple. She'd spent so many years relying on no one but herself, not trusting, not feeling. It took a tough skin to walk through the fires she had, but no matter how intact the exterior remained, the inside could still be shattered and withered like a plant devoid of sun. Change could be a heart-stopping thing for someone as set in their convictions as she was. Damnit, she wasn't going to brood about this now. She sat up, cursing quietly under her breath. She'd been _planning_ on apologizing to the stupid bastard, but that idea had died a quick death the second she'd heard the edge in his voice.

He had a right to be mad. She knew that, logically. But damnit, did he have to have such crappy timing about it? Just as well, he tended to frown on apologies in general, Askani philosophy being what it was. Besides, a simple 'I'm sorry' wasn't going to fix the mess she'd made. That was going to take some actual effort on her part. She sighed. Well, there wasn't much to be done now. Calling him back was pointless--he was probably asleep and she was damned if she was going to wake him. She got up from the bed and rummaged through the contents of her bag until she came up with a prescription bottle. Two nightmares were quite enough for one night, after all. She shook out a tablet, filled a glass with water from the sink, and swallowed the medication down. Another thing she didn't want to make a habit out of, she thought dryly as she changed for bed. Well, one step at a time. Maybe if she stopped berating herself while she was awake, her subconscious would cut her a little slack as well. "Fat chance there," she muttered, flipping back the bedding and crawling between the sheets. She reached back and flipped off the bedside lamp, pulling the blankets securely around her shoulders.

----

The sun was seeping in through a crack in the curtains. Muttering, Domino rubbed her eyes and turned her back on the offending light, burying her head in the pillow. She didn't want to be awake. Ideally, she wanted to just lay there for the next few days and forget about the world. She also knew that trying to hibernate through her troubles never worked, didn't work in the same way that throwing herself into pointless risks or running as far as she possibly could didn't work. In the end, they all lead to the same brick wall, and she was getting too old to stand there beating her hands bloody while she cursed everything and everyone in her life.

Losing herself wasn't an option. She'd tried that, after all... She shuddered slightly at the emotions that tried to claw their way up from where she'd safely buried them, and clutched the blankets a little tighter. Her only real option, the one that was the _right_ choice to make, was to head back home, face Nathan and any questions he decided to ask, and deal with the consequences. It was absolutely ridiculous how squeamish she was being about having to air all the sordid details of what she'd learned in Russia. They shared so much already, it hardly seemed something to be so hung up over. Then again, logic rarely won out over emotion, and that's what this was. A primal, gut reaction that told her it was best to say as little as possible.

Why Nathan still put up with her, she wasn't sure, especially when she kept trying to shove him away. A little voice in the back of her head was cautioning that she ought to be careful, or she'd get her wish. She didn't _want_ to be alone. It was too late to start her life over--again--and the prospects for a thirty-something career mercenary were grim, at best. She was still good at what she did, still had her edge, but if the work became her life burnout was an inevitability, and what good was all that effort if you didn't live to enjoy the retirement?

She could have kicked herself for letting this weakness swallow her. Was she really so self-destructive that she'd let that happen? Cursing under her breath, she got up and started throwing things into her bag. 

----

He knew she was there even before he heard her pull up. The presence that had lingered only faintly in his mind over the last week lit up like a road flare, and trepidation suddenly gripped him. She was leaning casually on the porch railing as he came to the door, hands stuffed in her coat pockets. Her eyes met his as he opened the door. 

"Trick or treat," she said, giving him an uneasy smile.

"You're a bit late for that," he deadpanned.

"Well, I can always come back next year..."

He laughed. "No, stay."

"Well...if you insist..."

End


End file.
